Geminio
by RachaelEwe
Summary: My attempt at not your typical 'Harry Potter has a Twin' Story. Draco Malfoy / OC (Harry's Slytherin twin sister) Romance. Darkfic at times, like the book series the storyline grows darker as the characters discover who they are and what role they play in the upcoming war. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1: The Scarlett Locomotive

The lights in the corridor flickered softly as the powerful wizard passed by below, his indigo robes billowing behind him. The silver crescent moons stitched along the fabric mimic the starry night sky.

An infant's cry echoes through the hollow ward and Albus Dumbledore's hand glides over the velvet pocket of his robe where his wand lay hidden.

He enters the nursery of St. Mungo's Hospital, his twinkling blue eyes scan the row of white bassinets aligning the wall to his left side, all empty before more crying pulls his attention over to the healer rocking near a large window.

The brightness of the full moon shines through the glass, illuminating the space in a soft, white glow.

Upon his arrival she gets up to greet him, casting him a warm smile and her blue eyes seem to sparkle with hope and longing as she peers up at him.

"Albus, please tell me you've come with good news." The elderly witch whispers, rising from the rocker and clutching a tightly wrapped bundle to her chest as she soothes the discontent baby in her arms.

Albus peers over his half moon spectacles and catches a glance at the squirming infant before he looks back to the healer with sadness reflecting in his eyes.

"I desperately wish I had, unfortunately I am forced to bear only misfortune this evening. Please Lottie, sit down." He says softly and gently ushers his dear friend back down into the rocking chair, still swaying.

Albus flicks his wand and a bottle of formula glides through the air across the nursery stopping to hover over the hungry baby. The nipple tips forward to the infant's mouth allowing the baby to suckle. The bottle hovers, as seemingly an invisible hand clutches it, a simple charm.

Albus stows away his wand and casts a glance back over at the healer. Worry is etched on her face as she patiently waits for Albus to explain why he's here.

"_The Potter's are dead_." He says quietly and a soft gasp resounds from the old witch before him.

"You don't mean the other-" She's interrupted by Albus.

"Little Harry is alive and well. I've just come back from Little Whinging where I've taken him to his new home." Dumbledore reassures her.

"As for this one?" Lottie inquires, nodding to the happily fed baby in her arms, who's now fallen into a peaceful sleep.

"Darcey will be placed in a loving home as soon as I make the necessary arrangements." Albus explains, preparing himself for the scandalized expression of the other witch, he's met with an angry hiss.

"_Albus, don't tell me you intend to separate them?_" Lottie scolds her friend, desperation laced in her raspy voice. "They're all the other has left, they are the only family they've got. Surely you have the heart to know how terrible it'd be to separate them now." She insists, her heart wrenching at the prospect of Albus' words.

Lottie always did care too deeply for the children in her ward. She had a tendency to grow quite fond of the babies, especially and suddenly she had the overwhelming need to protect the baby girl she now holds close to her heart. _After all, the poor dear hadn't anyone else to speak for her right?_ Lottie thought as she felt a responsibility for the child falling on her shoulders. She must try her best to persuade Albus from separating the twin orphans for it would be a tragic fate.

"It's for the best, it's crucial that you find it in yourself to trust my judgment Lottie." Dumbledore explains calmly, reaching out to lay his wrinkled hand to rest on dear Lottie's shoulder.

"It's the only way for now to guarantee their safety. _He's_ risen and I need to ensure that he cannot find them. _Both of their lives depend on it_" Albus says gravely as he recalls the prophecy from Sybill Trelawny.

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies and he will share blood with another, born weaker of the two yet stronger… Neither will know of the other until after the mark of the sixteenth eve… and she will then mark him as her enemy gaining the Dark Lord's favor… She will choose between blood and power… The destiny is hers alone…'_

* * *

"Darcey are you nearly ready, it's half past eleven and the train leaves at noon!" comes a whining voice from down the stairs. There stands a short witch with thin, flat, auburn hair parted down the middle. Her maple brown eyes glance down at her wristwatch as she fidgets nervously, waiting for her sister.

Darcey flops her dead weight on her school trunk rather roughly, willing the over stuffed lid to close shut. "_Coming!_" She shouts back, buying her a few spare moments. She's running horribly late as she overslept this morning and her sister hasn't helped her any by nagging and rushing the tardy, young witch.

"_Blimey_ Darcey, what in Merlin's beard are you doing up there?" Calls her elder brother Roger in an attempt to ruffle her further. _He doesn't even go to Hogwarts._ Darcey mentally grumbles and if it weren't for fear of missing the train she'd leave them waiting a while longer just to twist their knickers.

She bounds down the steps two at a time, lugging her heavy trunk behind her and sounding like a herd of centaurs. Darcy nearly knocks over her sister waiting at the bottom who casts her a furious scowl. "_Watch it_!" Tracey bellows as Darcey steps on her foot.

"You're lucky mum and dad aren't here or they'd have your arse for being so late." Roger chuckles from the front seat once she's slipped into the car. He casts a disillusionment charm on the vehicle making it invisible to muggles before taking off.

Roger and Tracey are Darcey's adopted brother and sister. Roger graduated Hogwarts from Ravenclaw house last year and is left in charge of seeing the girls off this morning while both parents are busy at work. Of course they could manage perfectly well on their own, being at the age of sixteen, but Roger's a gentlemen and very protective of his younger siblings, especially in times like these and their parents would throw a fit if they'd traveled alone. It's far too dangerous.

Darcey's father, Roger Davis Sr. is the Warden of Azkaban prison, and her mother works in the Department of International Magical Corporation at the Ministry of Magic meeting with diplomats from around the globe.

It feels strange not having her parents see her off this year, since Voldemort's return both of her parents have been swamped with their work, what with the mass Death Eater break out from Azkaban last spring she's rarely seen her dad all summer.

He's getting hell for their release. Not just receiving pressure from the Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but also the media too, particularly the _unbearable_ Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet whom Darcey has a special hatred in her heart for after the horrible lies she printed about father this summer.

'_Could_ _Roger Davis Sr. Warden of Azkaban be a secret supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Mass breakout at Azkaban leaves Davis under suspicion and scrutiny from the Ministry. Could Davis be secretly conspiring with the Dark Lord?'_

Darcey's stomach churns in anger as she revisits the article in her head, remembering it quite clearly even all these months later, it still gets a rise out of her.

That gossip monger had nearly ruined her father's career, lucky for him just his reputation took the fall and not his job since the Aurors lacked the proof needed to confirm their suspicions and all charges were dropped.

Darcey was confident her father was innocent all along and the lack of proof only proved it further. Everyone was just looking for someone to blame and naturally that blame would fall on the warden's shoulders. Darcey understood this but that didn't mean she took kindly to anyone spreading false rumors about her dad. She wouldn't tolerate such disgusting gossip.

Darcey is broken from her thoughts as they arrive at the train station in the heart of muggle London. Darcey always secretly enjoyed seeing the way the muggles lived, she found them both fascinating and pitiful and enjoyed the rush of not getting caught as she weaved through the muggle crowd.

'_Not a single one of them is bright enough to suspect that I'm a witch_.' She mentally muses, subconsciously pressing her hand over her cardigan pocket where her wand, _11 inch holly, unicorn hair and unyielding_ lay hidden.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stands alone with his mother as the bustling, chattering crowd of students and parents snake themselves around them. Narcissa Malfoy embraces her son tightly, to which he hardly responds.

She pulls away and glides the palm of her hand gently across his cheek in a loving gesture.

"Draco darling, remember your task and keep in contact with me. I've asked Severus to look after you, keep close to him." Narcissa whispers careful to ensure that no one overhears them, she keeps her voice hushed.

Draco nods curtly, only briefly holding his mothers gaze before peering back blankly at the crowd buzzing around the crimson locomotive and preparing to board The Hogwarts Express.

"Draco, please grant me your attention." Narcissa hisses, pulling her sons cheek back to face her, his stormy gray eyes lock with her deep brown ones. "Stay safe and remain close to Severus, do you understand?" She repeats herself, clutching his shoulders tightly. Draco nods, this time hissing back a cold '_Yes_.' And this seems to convince her as she suddenly releases him, forcing a small smile in order to maintain appearances.

"Goodbye my love." She smiles sadly, unshed tears stinging at her eyes as she expertly holds them back and waves him a final farewell, but he doesn't notice for he's already turned his back and is boarding the train.

Draco glides down the narrow passage, bumping roughly into a few rowdy first years as he makes his trek to the back of the train. He enters the sixth year Slytherin compartment where his peers await him, all chatting quietly amongst themselves while exchanging stories of their holiday.

Draco spots his schoolmates Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson and decides to take a seat near them. He slides his bag into the overhead compartment before slipping into the booth.

Pansy immediately greets him with her low, purring voice, a tone she's picked up whenever he's near. Draco's well aware that she's fancied him since the first year. Zabini on the other hand stays stoic and silent as usual, being a rather reserved boy.

"How was your summer Draco?" Pansy asks, leaning in towards him and catching his stormy eyes with her hazel ones. She looks extremely interested in whatever his response may be.

'_Wonderful_, my father got sent to Azkaban and I had a play date with the Dark Lord. I even got a new tattoo, _want to touch it_?' Draco seriously considers voicing this sarcastic thought just to see the shocked look her face.

Instead he chooses to go with the simpler, "Fair enough, how was yours?" He replies coolly as Pansy plunges into full detail of her holiday in Rome.

Draco rests his chin in the palm of his hand as he listens to his friend talk on and on, noticing how wide her nose is and how much it truly does resemble a pug like the others say. He's broken by his observation as a figure sits down beside him.

* * *

Darcey nearly sprints to the train as the final whistle blows and smoke rises from the crimson engine.

"That was way too close." Tracey comments from behind her as they easily make their way down the corridor, all the other students already seated in their compartments.

The train jerks forward, beginning its journey to Scotland causing both sisters to grab for the wall to prevent them from tumbling forward with the sudden movement.

They carefully continue on, once they've gained their sea legs, and arrive to a tightly packed train car.

"Where in Merlin's beard do you suppose we're sitting?" Tracey hisses in her sister's ear thoroughly annoyed with her tardiness by now and mentally cursing Darcey for making them so embarrassingly late.

"There's an open seat over there, by Daphne." Darcey gestures her hand over at her siblings friend, hoping this will please her enough to get off her back.

Tracey marches forward and claims the open spot, not bothering to help her sister look for a seat, she's far too angry.

Darcey stands awkwardly at the threshold as some of her classmates glance over at her with curious stares. She finally chooses the closest seat a few feet away and quickly slides inside the booth hoping her presence doesn't draw more unwanted attention to her.

Draco Malfoy, a rather rude prick, Darcey has decided glares up at her as she slips in next to him forcing him to move over to the window.

"Hello Darcey." Pansy smiles over at her dorm mate, happy to be in the company of a fellow female. "Davis." Blaise nods smoothly his bright, golden orbs locking on the pretty blue ones across from him.

"Didn't mean to intrude." Darcey calmly replies taking note of Malfoy's unpleasant staring from beside her but she doesn't turn to face him, instead addressing the less agitated Slytherins in front of her, "Everywhere else is full." She adds to her defense. She's been glared at enough this morning by her sister, she doesn't need it coming from her classmates too and Draco's rude behavior does nothing to uplift her sour mood as she continues to ignore him.

"You could have at least had the decency to ask my permission first but no, go right along and make yourself comfortable." Draco replies sarcastically from beside her.

She finally turns to face him and is tempted to hex him but instead morphs her lips into a sweet and innocent smile. "_Aw Malfoy, who shoved a wand up your ass today_?" She smoothly counters, her smile turning into a haughty smirk as he glares furiously back at her with arctic gray eyes. She offhandedly notices how impossibly pale they are, never seeing another with a shade as light and icy as his and she hasn't yet decided whether or not she likes them.

"_Watch yourself Davis_." He warns coldly. "_You're picking fights way out of your league_." Malfoy hisses and Darcey has to stop from snorting back at him.

_'Yes Draco, you're right. You're** so** scary the way you and those fat oafs of yours hex and tease the younger classmen. You're such an intimidating bully, I wouldn't dare curse you for surely your daddy in Azkaban would hear of it.' _Darcey mentally taunts_. _

_"_Pfft as if!" She instead scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. Their bickering is suddenly interrupted by a smoke bomb going off, surely a gag from the Weasley twins store in Diagon Alley.

She presses the knitted sleeve of her navy jumper to her nose, shielding her lungs from the cloud of black gas. She feels Draco's weight shift next to her and notices he's now risen, looking around in suspicion for the source of the attack.

"_Relax boys_, it's just some prank." Pansy's low voice purrs as the cloud slowly begins to disperse.

Draco reluctantly sits back down and Darcey wonders what exactly he was planning to do, hex some kid for a silly prank? Surely, he must have some sense of humor. Darcey honestly doesn't see why he looks so suspicious and can't help but cast him a questioning look.

Malfoy unlocks from her curious, penetrating gaze and instead looks to the compartment above him where his eyes linger on their luggage.

Darcey stays silent for most of the train ride to Hogwarts, only talking when Pansy directly asks her questions. Zabini and Malfoy seem to be in an equally reserved mood, but then again Blaise hardly socializes with anyone, always keeping to himself, he's very secretive that way.

Most girls find the air of mystery around him alluring and although Darcey must admit, the boy is quite handsome, being part veela and all but apart from his good looks his personalities lacking. She was never one of the girls to drool over him then again she never drooled over _anyone_.

Like Zabini, Darcey Davis wasn't much of a socialite at Hogwarts. She kept mostly to herself, keeping her nose hidden in books. Darcey was often lost in the shadows, not very noticeable just your average looking girl in her opinion, although Tracey was openly jealous of her '_natural beauty_', she couldn't really see it in herself.

Still Darcey didn't concern herself with appearances like most of her Slytherin peers. Often not bothering to do her makeup or hair unless for a special occasion, and some days not even caring enough to brush through her messy, brunette locks.

She had more important things to accomplish than trying to impress the snobbish purebloods around her. Darcey had a drive, a passion for learning all things magical. If it weren't for her ambitious nature and stubborn determination, the sorting hat would have surely stuck her with Ravenclaw like her brother.

Darcey is broken from her gaze out the window as she looks past Draco's head and watches the beautiful scenery pass by in blurs of pine green and grey, cloudy skies. It's a rainy autumn day and small droplets of rainwater begin to snake their way down the window as it begins to drizzle outside. Darcey is brought out from her trance as she realizes once again Pansy is addressing her.

"I've heard of the rumors going around about your father, are any of them true?" Pansy fishes for gossip, but cloaks it in a way that sounds like she's sincerely sorry.

Darcey always disliked that about the girl, she was sly as a fox and very untrustworthy. She'd learned this after confiding in her a secret in her second year and word spreading like wildfire. Within a few days the entire second year knew that Darcey Davis had fancied Theodore Nott but was too shy to approach him. She had been mortified and learned her lesson the hard way that she couldn't trust anyone.

"_No_." Darcey replies firmly causing her dorm mate to appear a bit taken aback by the force behind her word.

Darcey turns back to gaze out the window as a long, intense silence hangs over the air.

Pansy soon speaks up again, directing her next question to Draco instead she asks about his father still fishing for some juicy gossip and Darcey's truly disgusted by her blatant disregard for others privacy. She can hardly believe Pansy would just ask Malfoy about his father knowing he's currently sitting in a jail cell.

"_He's well_." Comes Malfoy's curt reply. It's obvious he doesn't want to talk about his father who's imprisoned in Azkaban for being a Death Eater, but Pansy either doesn't take the hint or doesn't care as she continues on anyway and for some reason this really irks Darcey.

"I've heard he's been locked up. I'm very sorry Draco. If there's anything I can do to console you…" Pansy purrs softly while reaching for his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. Insert gag noise. She's so bloody _fake_ it reminds Darcey of that unbearable Rita Skeeter.

"_You could probably quit prying into people's personal lives, but that's just a suggestion."_ Darcey can't restrain herself from blurting out rudely. _'Can't the girl just shut the hell up already_?' Darcey seriously considers hexing the witch with a tongue-tying jinx but holds herself back, unsure of whether or not Malfoy's still a prefect this year.

From the corner of her eye she can see Draco smirking at her snappy comment and somehow this causes her to smirk too, as she holds back from laughing at the scandalized look on Pansy's features. Triumph sinks in.

"I'm not _prying_. I'm genuinely concerned about my _friend_." Pansy replies icily once she's recomposed herself, emphasizing the word friend as to hint to Darcey that unlike her she herself has_ friends._

Instead of giving into her bait and taking offense Darcey remains calm and collected, peering back at her with a blank mask. "_My sincere apologies_." She smoothly replies as her dorm mate nods stiffly, granting her forgiveness.

Slowly the locomotive grinds to a halt, signaling their arrival to Hogwarts. As their schoolmates begin to collect their luggage and make their way down the isle to exit the train Draco stays behind, eyeing the suspicious black bag above him with contempt. _There's something he had to take care of first._

When the other students had filed out, including Darcey, Pansy and Blaise, he drew out his wand pointing it directly at the bag and casting a body binding spell on whoever dared to spy on him. Whomever the fool was, they picked the wrong day to get on Draco's bad side.

He was still annoyed with Pansy's inquiry about his father and knew it wouldn't be the last he'd hear of it. He was sure rumors of him being a Death Eater were already swirling around school.

On top of his status taking a blow due to Lucius' arrest, Draco too had become a Death Eater over the summer. At first it seemed like an honor to be considered worthy enough by the Dark Lord but soon he found that life as a Death Eater isn't a glamorous one, it's a death sentence.

The Dark Lord is ruthless; Draco had witnessed this for himself over the summer, seeing his cruelty first hand. The Dark Lord had made Malfoy Manor his headquarters and as such Draco had heard the all summer long the screams of anguish and despondent moans resounding from the prisoners tortured in his cellar. He hadn't slept right since.

To make his summer worse the Dark Lord felt the need to punish Draco for Lucius' failure at the Department of Mysteries last spring and placed upon Draco the near impossible mission to murder Albus Dumbledore. Draco was determined. He would kill the mental old man and thus restore his family's honor, gaining back favor in the Dark Lord. Still, the importance of the mission put much stress upon Draco making him irritable, touchy, and reclusive. He was on edge this year and the insomnia didn't help.

Draco crouches down next to the invisible, paralyzed heap on the floor, blindly groping for the invisibility cloak as his hand glides over the smooth, velvety material. He tugs it off revealing Saint Potter gazing up at him with wide, green eyes behind a pair of crooked glasses. He casts Potter a cruel smirk, his gray eyes glinting with malice.

_"That was for spying on me_." He hisses darkly, still hunched over the golden boy.

"_And **this** is for my father_." Draco adds before kicking Potter's face in with the heel of his shoe. Bright, fresh blood pours from the Gryffindor's now severely crooked and broken nose.

Draco drapes the cloak back over Harry's paralyzed form before straightening out his blazer and dusting off his trousers. He clutches his school bag firmly as he exits the train, but not before muttering in a glacial tone, "_Enjoy the ride back to London_ _Scarhead."_


	2. Chapter 2: Water and Blood

The Great Hall is alive with chattering voices and clanking utensils as the students enjoy the ceremonial welcome back feast.

Darcey and Tracey Davis sit side by side near end of the Slytherin table, surrounded by their fellow sixth years. Daphne Greengrass sits beside Tracy and the two witches engage in a whispered conversation about love potions, giggling every so often. Darcey doesn't eavesdrop, instead quietly picking at her food as her sapphire orbs scan over the Great Hall.

Her eyes fall on Harry Potter, Hogwart's own celebrity, as he enters the Great Hall with Loony Lovegood.

Darcey shouldn't refer to the girl as such, her real name being Luna, but the nickname seems to come naturally to her since the entire school refers to her as Loony. Darcey has personally never conversed with the witch, but has heard enough about her to decide she's a peculiar girl and a possibly a real nutter.

Darcey's eyes absorb the bloody handkerchief Potter clutches to his nose as she subconsciously arches her brow, wondering what mess Potter got himself into this time.

See, Harry Potter wasn't just famous at Hogwarts for being '_The-Boy-Who-Lived'_ for even if he wasn't the Chosen One, Darcey was still certain he'd be just as sickeningly popular as he is now.

The golden boy was famous for nearly getting himself killed _every single year_. First there was, '_did you hear? Harry Potter fought off Quirrell who was really You-Know-Who in disguise!_' and then there was, '_Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin! I heard he opened the Chamber of Secrets_!' the year after that it was, '_Harry Potter's uncle is Sirius Black, escapee of Azkaban_!' During Darcey's fourth year she had heard how '_Harry Potter killed Cedric Diggory but he claims You-Know-Who did it!_' and as if he wasn't popular enough he even snuck his name into the Goblet of Fire that year and became the youngest Triwizard Champion in history.

Last year sure enough Potter had managed to evade death once more at the Ministry of Magic where he supposedly fought off You-Know-Who in the flesh. She had also heard his uncle Sirius Black had died that night.

Darcey wondered how the chosen boy managed to be so damn _unlucky_. Potter seemed to be cursed with misfortune, bringing death to anyone who got near him.

Darcey is broken from her thoughts as she notices Potter glaring darkly at her from the Gryffindor Table across the room. Darcey gives him a disgusted scowl, feeling confused and offended as to why he would be looking at her that way, but then she notices his eyes aren't locked on hers, but instead on the figure two seats down from her.

Darcey follows his gaze to land on Malfoy, who doesn't notice the furious looks Potter's casting him as he seems to be staring off into space, chin resting in his palm, he looks thoroughly bored with the entire feast.

'_Could it be Malfoy who gave Potter the bloody nose_?' Darcey suddenly wonders as she remembers Draco stayed behind on the train. '_What a foul git!'_ She decides, it's one thing to hex someone but to actually cause physical harm is taking the whole Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry too far.

'_On the other hand if Potter can't even defend himself against an amateur bully like **Malfoy**, how the hell does he intend to defeat the Dark Lord?_' Darcy wonders.

* * *

Later that night Darcey flops down rather ungracefully across her bed, the mattress springs protesting to her sudden movement. She sighs, allowing her muscles to fully relax as she stares up at the sphere shaped iron lantern above her, the glass tinted green, casting an emerald glow across the entire dormitory.

The bottom of the lake can be seen from the nautical portholes aligning the wall giving the illusion that the walls are alive; slithering like a serpent as the light reflects off the depths of the water.

Darcey is happy to be back at school and still after six years she hasn't grown tired of it's raw, majestic beauty.

The cot shifts and Darcy looks up at her sister, Tracey who's now shoving a piece of crumpled parchment at her. She takes it and reads the note from the Headmaster Dumbledore who says he wishes to see her.

"What's this about?" Darcey demands, not moving from her position sprawled out upon her cot, her wavy, tousled hair dangly over the edge like a dark waterfall.

"Rubbish from that nutter Dumbledore." Tracey growls in a snobbish tone, as if the headmaster is below her, a creature of filth.

"_I very well see that." _Darcey snaps._ "But did he say as to **why** he wishes to see me?"_ Darcey replies in an annoyed tone, not much in the mood to journey halfway across the castle to the Headmaster's office. She was about to curl up with a book and unwind.

"Hell if I know." Tracey shrugs, getting up from the bed and moving over to the wardrobe to resume unpacking her trunk.

Darcey lets out a frustrated sigh, reluctantly forcing herself to stand and go see what the mental old fool wants. '_Maybe he's decided to make me a prefect this year!'_ She thinks to herself excitedly. '_A prefect badge will look fantastic on my resume.'_

* * *

"Pixie dust" Harry states the password to Dumbledore's office and the gargoyles shift as a marble spiral staircase reveals itself and Harry steps on. He knocks on the door to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in." Says Dumbledore as Harry walks in, peering around the cluttered office filled with ancient magical artifacts and thick tomes of every subject.

On top of the nearest cabinet by the door sits the sorting hat, created by Godric Gryffindor one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

As he looks up at it he's reminded of the time when it was first placed upon his head during Harry's first year and how it had nearly sorted him into Slytherin. Now that he's older he wonders if it had made the right choice in placing him in Gryffindor. Harry frowns at the thought and breaks his gaze away from it, pulling his attention back to Dumbledore and why he's wished to see him this evening. Rather than be alarmed, he's learned just to sort of 'go with it' after all these years.

"Please, sit down Harry." Dumbledore says softly, gesturing with his cursed, black veined hand to the two maroon chairs perched in front of his desk. Harry takes a seat but not before taking a moment to affectionately stroke the feathers of Fawkes the phoenix. He recalls how the bird had saved him in the Chamber of Secrets during his second year, presenting him with the sword of Godric Gryffindor. He remembers what the Headmaster had told him back then, '_The sword only presents itself to a true Gryffindor, it's an honor it chose to reveal itself to you, Harry._' This memory seems to settle Harry's previous fears as to whether or not the sorting hat had made a mistake in placing him into Gryffindor.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Harry asks warily, wondering what the elder sorcerer could want from him this time. He had already whisked Harry away during the summer to convince Professor Slughorn to return to his teaching post at Hogwarts but he had yet to explain as to _why_ it was so important that he return, only that he had wished to 'collect' Harry. Which Harry found unpleasant.

"_What I'm about to tell you Harry is going to change your life forever_." Dumbledore begins, his voice taking on a grave tone as his blue eyes sparkle with sorrow.

"_You have a sister, Harry_." Dumbledore states, getting straight to the point and leaving Harry feeling as if he's been knocked off a broomstick.

"_I have a_ **_what_**?" Harry gapes, utterly blown away by the elder wizard's words.

"A sister, a _twin _to be more precise." Dumbledore clarifies calmly. "She's alive and well, right here in the castle as we speak." Dumbledore reassures him, pausing to allow Harry a moment to take in the shocking information given to him.

'_I have a sister. I have family and she's **here**_.' Harry tries to process the words, as a giddy, hopeful sort of happiness swells inside him, radiating warmth from within the center of his chest. He had been devastated last spring when Sirius Black had died, that had been Harry's Godfather and the closest thing Harry had to a living relative so to hear he had a sibling was... well, utterly _amazing._ Yet, mixed in with this newfound hope and joy was deep confusion, shock, and even anger as he voices his concerns.

"Why am I only _now _hearing about this, sir?" Harry wonders aloud, feeling desperately confused. He needs answers, loads of answers to all the burning questions coursing through his mind.

"_How long have you been keeping this from me?_" He adds angrily.

"Come Harry, I feel memory can help serve you better than words." Dumbledore suggests calmly, moving to the pensive in the center of the room filled with gray water. Harry blindly follows having no other choice as fierce curiosity overcomes him, he leans over the basin watching as Dumbledore presses the tip of his wand to his temple and seems to extract from it a glowing string of magic so delicate it looks as if it will break away and disappear at any moment.

Dumbledore moves the glowing, wispy web of magic into the water of the basin where in the reflection of the gray water Harry can see faces, people and hear from it unidentifiably, muffled whispers.

Dumbledore clutches Harry's shoulder and yanks him forward submerging his face into the water where suddenly Harry can clearly make out the people, Albus Dumbledore and Professor Trelawny the divination teacher at Hogwarts, and he can now hear crystal clear their voices as the Seer recites the siblings joint prophecy.

* * *

Darcey swiftly struts down the corridor, her Slytherin school robe fluttering behind her with her long strides. She's now eager to see what Dumbledore wants with her, hoping he plans to offer her the prefect position he didn't give her last year.

Resentment pierces her at the thought of Pansy Parkinson being appointed the position last year when Darcey was certain it would go to her instead.

She had remarkable, near perfect marks and considered herself to meet the criteria of being an overall honest and responsible student. So why the Headmaster had given the position to Parkinson instead had confounded and infuriated her.

Darcey had _deserved_ it, she had worked so hard for it and she was absolutely sure her marks were far better than that pug-faced prats.

Since then Darcey had felt sour resentment towards Dumbledore, feeling that somehow the Headmaster had perhaps had a personal vendetta against her, as nutty as that may seem... It's the only reasonable explanation that Darcey could come up with. Dumbledore, for whatever reason unknown to her, didn't like her.

Darcey hopes now that the headmaster has changed his opinion of her and thus realized his grave mistake in appointing Parkinson as female prefect. '_Perhaps he's seeking me out to apologize and grovel at my feet._' Darcy muses. '_I surely would if I had caught onto her perverted and despicable misuse of power. I'd practically be begging for someone else to take over that foul girls place_.' A mental image of Pansy bullying the lower class men pops into her head and makes Darcey seethe with anger. She'd never stoop so low as to bully the helpless, she'd only taunt or hex those who she considered her equals and who had foolishly provoked her first.

Darcey realizes she's already made it to the Headmasters office and is broken from her brooding as she repeats the password scrawled upon the crumpled piece of parchment in her hands. "Pixie Dust" Darcey clearly states before she ascends the staircase and raps loudly upon the door.

"Come in." The headmaster calls as Darcey obediently enters.

Her eyes narrow at the sight of Harry Potter looking pale, slouched in one of two chairs near his desk and suddenly she feels extremely uncomfortable.

"Sorry, didn't realize you had company. Do you want me to wait outside?" Darcey squeaks as a flush crosses her pale cheeks, feeling awkward suddenly as if she's intruded upon a meaningful moment.

"That won't be necessary, I've asked Harry here to join us in our meeting. Please take a seat, Darcey. If you will." Dumbledore replies serenely gesturing to the only other available seat next to Potter.

Darcey reluctantly obeys, sitting down beside him and casting him a sly glance from the corner of her eye and taking note of how ill he looks. '_Maybe Malfoy did more than break his nose_.' She attempts to piece together.

The majestic scarlet phoenix perched next to Dumbledore's desk draws her attention as it makes a soft, bird-like sound similar to an owl but more melodic.

Darcey has the urge to stroke it and feel it's silk-like feathers but decides against it. Magical creatures skeeve her out a bit, for some reason she considers them all to be dangerous and unpredictable although she's read otherwise. Thus, even textbook facts can't bring her to overcome her caution as she gazes longingly at the pretty, scarlet bird. It's not so much she _fears_ it, and more so that she'd just rather not risk catching herself on fire. '_Yes, that's it it's just sensible caution not an irrational fear.' _Darcey mentally reasons with herself.

"Have you and Harry met before?" The headmaster suddenly speaks up, pulling her attention away from the blazing red reptile.

"_Erm. I suppose so. We've had a few classes together_." Darcey stumbles, suddenly caught off guard by the Headmaster's random question. It wasn't as if they were in the same house, and he knew the rivalry their houses shared for each other but of course they'd _met _before. Who in this entire school hadn't _met_ at least once the famous Harry Potter?

Dumbledore looks between the two sixth year students, his blue eyes twinkling. Darcey finds the old man rather hard to read and wonders what he's thinking. It unnerves her that she can't tell, she's normally quite talented at reading people. Professor Trelawney had once told her in third year that she had a bit of 'the Sight' in her as well as possessing a strong intuition.

"If you don't mind, sir. I'd like to know exactly why I'm here?" Darcey asks politely, attempting to move along the senile, old man feeling slightly frustrated that he's now wasting her time. She should be relaxing in her dorm right now, not having an awkward tea party with Potter and Dumbledore.

"_I have a hunch you wouldn't believe what I'm about to tell you, and rather consider me a mad man_." Dumbledore begins, standing up to meet her on the other side of his desk. '_Well he hit the nail on the head with that one. Considering I already consider him a mad man.'_ Darcey mentally muses as he leads her over to the pensive in the center of the office.

Darcy knows exactly what this magical object is used for; she's read all about it over the summer when she delved into Occlumency, taking a keen interest to it. It's used as a medium to view memories, basically the magician casts his own memory into the pensive and from there you can view it clearly as if you were reliving it. A rather brilliant object.

"You're showing me a memory?" Darcey confirms her suspicions aloud for validation, looking weary.

Dumbledore's dark blue eyes twinkle down at her from behind his half moon spectacles. "_Yes, I had a feeling you'd know exactly what this is Miss Davis, you are indeed a very bright witch_." He compliments.

"But, why me?" Darcey demands felling terribly confused. "I don't understand."

Anxiety churns within the pit of her stomach as Dumbledore extracts a memory from his mind and drops it into the pensive. Something about all of this doesn't settle right with her. Perhaps because Potters here, she knows nothing good can come of this, the boys a magnet for misfortune...

"_Sir, answer me please_!" Darcey demands once more, feeling frantic and before she can stop him Dumbledore pushes her head down into the water, submerging her fully into the memory.

Glimpses of different people and sceneries flash before her eyes at lightning speed. A conversation with a nurse named Lottie who is clutching an infant version of her. A beautiful ginger haired woman giving birth to twins, one healthy and one frail. Her birth parents dying at the hands of Lord Voldemort and her mother's love for Harry rebounding the curse, and last Darcey being adopted as a baby by a younger, but equally loving version of the pureblood couple who raised her, Roger and Amelia Davis. When he's finished showing her exactly what she needed to see, she's pulled back violently, looking around the room with wide, fearful, blue eyes. Her heart pounds heavy within her chest as she locks eyes with her twin, her brother, Harry Potter.

"Y-You." She stutters out, feeling out of breath as if she's running, running as fast as she can. She suddenly can't breathe. She can't think. All she can do is try to process what she's been shown. Answers to her past, questions that have always been on her mind since childhood, '_Who are my birth parents?' 'Why didn't they want me?' 'Who am I?' _Questions vaguely answered or avoided all together by her mum and dad.

_"You're my-" _Darcey begins weakly, looking straight at Harry.

_"Brother." _He finishes casting her a warm smile but Darcey doesn't return his enthusiasm. Unlike her brother she isn't happy to hear of this news. She can almost feel her entire life crumbling before her; everything she has ever known has suddenly been terribly altered. She doesn't want to accept this; it can't be true. '_I can't be Harry Potter's sister. I'm Darcey- Darcey Arabella Davis. I'm not a Potter, I can't be a Potter_... _If I'm a Potter that means I'll live a life from now on of one unfortunate event after another, unrelenting misfortune and surely die alongside my brother while I watch the Dark Lord destroy everything close to me. Everything I hold most dear. No that can't happen. I won't let it. '_

_"_This doesn't change anything. I don't have to agree to this._" _Darcey argues weakly while inwardly struggling to come to terms with the discovery of who she truly is. She fights the tears, willing them to stop, but her efforts are in vain for she cannot control the emotions flooding through her, they are too powerful; too raw and so hot tears fall from her eyes. Tears of dread and mourning. Tears of self pity.

"Indeed Darcey, you have the freedom to do with this information as you wish." Comes the Headmasters calm, gentle, reassuring voice but it's not reassuring at all. His words tear through her and she feels divided. A very small part of her wants to welcome Harry into her life and accept that they are family but a much larger part of her wants nothing to do with him, knowing he's a token of bad luck. She can't even begin to think about her birth parents who are _dead_. Darcey doesn't want the fame of being born to the Potters, twin to the _Boy-Who-Lived_. She just wants the life she's always known, her average life with her adoptive family, not being famous, not being cursed and sought out by the Dark Lord. She's no hero. She's no solider.

"I'm not your family. We may be blood but that doesn't change anything. I'm not just going to suddenly prance around the castle proclaiming that I'm the twin to the Boy-Who-Lived, _lucky me_." Darcey hisses, sarcasm dripping venomously from her tone, feeling furious with Dumbledore, angry at him for suddenly thrusting this misfortune upon her. How dare her ruin her life like this?

'_And if he's waited this long to tell me why not keep me in the dark for a few more years, tell me after the war? Does he really want me to help Harry now? Surely he can't expect me to just abandon my family, endanger them by drawing attention to myself and picking fights with the bloody Dark Lord! I don't stand a chance, even Dumbledore himself can't defeat him. Harry can't defeat him and even with my help, their efforts would be in vain. Voldemort is unstoppable.' _These thoughts race through Darcey's head a mile a minute and there's just so much being thrown at her that she cannot focus, she can't calm her panicking mind. The fear, it blinds all hope of reasoning. She's terrified and she's sorry as she catches the anger and hurt reflecting in Harry's emerald eyes, but she can't do this. She can't help him. He'll have to find someone else.

"_I don't know you." _Her voice is laced with sorrow and guilt as she tries to focus and push aside the fear that's causing her to say harsh things.

_"I already have a family; I have a sister, a **brother**. I want nothing to do with you. Everyone who gets close to you dies. You can go off and be the hero, fight Voldemort and get yourself killed I don't give a damn but you're **not** going to drag me along with you! Don't think that I support you. That I'll fight beside you simply because you're my blood. I'm not getting involved in this war and I want you to keep me and my family out of it! Just stay away from me!"_ Darcey is yelling now, the fear taking grip of her again. The look Harry is giving her, it makes her heart twist in shame and guilt. It makes her loathe herself for being such a lousy sister to him, he deserves someone better, someone less selfish and before either of them can stop her she turns around and runs. She flees from the office and down the corridor, feeling the overwhelming urge to keep running until she's fled the castle, and then Scotland, and she will keep going until she's sure she's far enough away, but nowhere will ever be quite far enough, she realizes and she'll spend her whole life running. '_Like a coward run away little snake!_' A cruel voice, darker than her own echos through her head.

She feels the overwhelming need to protect her family. Darcey knows that if Voldemort discovers who she really is he will murder her and everyone she loves. '_Why me? Why was I cursed with being born into the most dangerous family on earth?_'

Darcey finally reaches the safety of her common room, the only place in the world that offers her a little bit of security right now. She will hide herself here in the dungeons and Voldemort will never find her. That's it, she'll bring her family too and together they'll grow old here. They'll stay alive while everyone around them perishes, especially those mixed in with Harry Potter and Dumbledore. Let her brother fight the war; let him be foolish and brave while Darcey keeps herself _alive._

Darcey is well aware that she's not thinking very rationally at the moment. She knows the emotions have a terrifying grip of her and she's not making any sense even to herself.

Flinging herself down roughly onto the sofa, she buries her face into the cool leather cushions and closes her burning, puffy, red eyes. The tears have stopped, there's nothing left but the numbness and shock. Darcey feels hollow and cold; she shivers, but at least now she's beginning to calm down, though she doesn't like the emptiness consuming her. She faintly wonders if this is how it feels to snog a dementor, right before he eats your soul.

Darcey doesn't know how long she lies there sulking but it feels like eternity. She's stuck in an abyss with no concept of time. She doesn't want to get up because then she'll have to face the fact that this is all real, this isn't some nightmare she can wake up from, this is her life.

'_I'm a Potter_… _I'm cursed_.'

Finally she wills herself to get up and stand, maybe sleep will bring her a bit of comfort now, if not at least it will offer her an escape from tonight. As Darcey makes her way back to her dormitory she notices the pale figure curled up in the chair next to the fireplace. The flames are now smoldering, about to die out casting very little light upon the room, perhaps that's why Darcey hadn't noticed him before or maybe she was simply too distraught and caught up in her own self pity.

The figure twitches and mumbles inaudible words laced with fear. Darcey steps closer, recognizing the figure as Draco Malfoy, curled up asleep and having some sort of unpleasant dream. Before she can stop herself she reaches out her hand to wake him, not liking the way his brows are scrunched together and he appears to be in pain. Darcey gently shakes his shoulder, stirring him from his night terror. He jolts violently awake, gripping tightly to her wrist with cobra-like strength. His pale gray eyes seem to glow in the darkness, wide with sheer terror before he realizes who she is and that she's not a threat to him. He roughly shoves her arm away, letting go of her wrist. She clutches it to her chest, rubbing the now tender and possibly bruised flesh.

"You were dreaming." Darcey explains quietly gazing at him with a look of concern despite feeling offended with his use of force. She can't help but wonder what he was dreaming about but knows better than to ask, he'd just shut her down.

"What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Malfoy snaps irritably, his eyes narrowed up at the tousle haired girl before him.

Darcey feels a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips at the irony. "_I should be asking you the same_." She counters smoothly, but doesn't stick around long enough for Malfoy to tell her, knowing he won't.

"_Goodnight Draco_." She adds, turning her back to him and heading for the girl's dormitories. He doesn't acknowledge her goodbye, remaining silent and still behind her.

* * *

Draco sits down in his favorite ebony armchair near the cold, stone fireplace. "_Incendio_" He says the spell aloud, pointing his wand, 10 inch Hawthorne and Unicorn Hair, at the pile of firewood. A fire roars to life, orange flames licking and crackling in the hearth. Draco sinks back into the armchair relaxing his tense muscles and worried mind with the warmth that floods him.

He stares into the fire, letting it serve as a distraction from the restless insomnia. Draco can't bring himself to fall asleep, knowing the night terrors that await him, he's in no hurry to go to bed.

The sixteen year old Death Eater has a lot on his mind, stressing over the fact that he hasn't made any progress with his task since his mother helped him by suggesting he look into making use of the vanishing cabinet in Borgin and Burke's. He knew that its twin lie within the castle, hidden in the rubbish of the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Problem was the cabinet was wonky, it didn't work properly and it was up to him to repair it but the spell was extremely advanced and it would take him some time to master the charm.

Until then he had to work on thinking of other ways to kill off the Headmaster, just in case he couldn't succeed in fixing the cabinet in time. Draco needed to visit the library this week and get permission from Snape to have access to the restricted section; from there he could research dark magic and find some way to kill Dumbledore without him noticing. It was extremely important that Draco didn't get caught or else he would be expelled and his cover would be blown marking him useless to the Dark Lord. A cruel shiver snakes it's way down his spine at the thought of being murdered. Draco couldn't fail, his life and the life of his family depended on him completing this mission.

Before long Draco feels his eyelids growing heavier as his sleep deprivation catches up to him. He doesn't even notice that he's dozed off until he's trapped in the horror of another nightmare.

_He's in a graveyard, a thick, suffocating smog clinging to the air. Cold wind rips through the night causing the dry, dead leaves on the boney trees to rustle loudly; like the hissing screams of a thousand insects, they cry out to him. The forest calls to him, warning him to run for something wicked approaches. _

_Draco can't move his legs as he wills them to go forward and run. He looks down to find the flesh eaten from his feet and calves; all that remains is the luminescent white marrow with strings of bloody, rotten flesh dangly off the bone. _

_Wiggly, pearly white maggots feast upon his skin. He tries to scream but no noise escapes his lips. He shuffles backward, using his hands as leverage to propel him. He drags his mutilated corpse back, but soon connects with something icy cold and smooth. Craning his neck a little, he makes out the sleek, ebony tombstone behind him. Shifting a little more he identifies the letters etched into the hard surface of the rock, the name written is his. _

_Suddenly a dementor-like creature emerges from the mist, a dark phantom of the night. He comes face to face with a fallen angel cloaked in death. The Death Angel is here to collect his soul. _

_Once more Draco tries to cry out, protesting Death's kiss as he scrambles backward but his torso is still pressed against the tomb of his grave and there's nowhere left to run. Nowhere left to hide. Death has found him. Draco's run out of time. _

_Death descends upon him, reaching out a skeletal hand and clings to his collar._

His eyes snap open and he's met with a dark figure hovering above him. He grabs for the hand, locking tightly to the slender, pale wrist of the student who dares to touch him. Draco roughly pushes them away, pushing away the nightmare still vivid in his mind and not knowing what is real and what's not.

His vision clears and he's able to focus in, taking in the features of the witch gazing down at him with concern sparkling in her piercing blue eyes.

"You were dreaming." Darcey Davis tells him, still giving him that soft worried look. He mush have been thrashing in his sleep again. Draco can only hope he wasn't screaming, that would be embarrassing. Insecurity washes over him as he suddenly feels vulnerable and exposed under her gaze. Annoyance and anger rise into his throat and he can't help but lash out at her for catching him in such a raw state.

"What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Draco hisses irritably, his eyes narrowing on the girl, casting her a chilling glare and silently daring her to tell anyone about what she's witnessed him doing. That's just what he needs, Davis blabbing to the whole school that Draco Malfoy sobs in his sleep.

As if she's reading his thoughts, which he knows to be impossible since he's a master at Occlumency, she smirks down upon him her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"_I should be asking you the same_." Davis cheekily replies in a light, teasing tone and before he can snap at her that it's none of her damn business she casts him a easy smile. "_Goodnight Draco_." She whispers before turning around to leave him. He stares at her retreating figure sauntering up the stairs, her robes fluttering around her ankles.

Draco faintly wonders why he's never noticed Davis before, suddenly taking a very mild interest in her and then remember that she was a bit of a book worm and just as reclusive as Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, except much less noticable depite being a pretty enough witch. Definitely not gorgeous like Daphne Greengrass, but certainly far from ugly like Millicent Bullstrode.

There's a subtle sort of natural attractiveness about Darcey that Draco could appreciate. If it weren't for her haughty personality the old Draco would have even considered getting close to her now that he's taken more of a notice in her more, that was twice today they've crossed paths, a new record considering he barely knew the girl existed before.

Unfortunately he finds the witch infuriating for not many girls have been immune to his charm and humor. He was a witty and handsome lad, one whom Pansy openly drooled over, yet Darcey Davis hadn't thought twice about insulting him early today on the train. In fact Davis was the only girl, _besides that filthy mudblood Granger_, who has ever shown a blatant dislike for him.

_'Who does she think she is?_' Draco now wonders furiously.

The middle class pureblood wench had too much pride for her own good, he decides and deems that she's nobody worthy of his time. It'd be in Davis' best interest to get off his radar and go back to hiding in the shadows.

His icy gray eyes dart to his left arm, envisioning the dark mark concealed beneath the sleeve of his robe.

_'Yes, it'd be wise of Darcey Davis to steer clear of him.'_


	3. Chapter 3: Black Magic

Sunlight filters through the grimy windows of the Potions classroom, an oval shaped room located in the heart of the dungeons. This year Professor Slughorn has emerged from retirement, returning to teach at Hogwarts.

Darcey gazes back attentively at the new professor, a round-bellied, jolly old man with sparkling, inviting eyes, the polar opposite of Professor Snape, their previous Potions master.

Scrolled upon the outside edges of the dome shaped ceiling, and framing the door are words written in what Darcey believes to be latin. Along the curved walls stand floor-to-ceiling bookcases housing spare textbooks, common ingredients, glass phials, and scales. Five large wooden tables with stools occupy the room. On top of each workstation sits three cast iron cauldrons. The classroom holds a total of fifteen students, making it one of the smallest in the castle.

Darcey stands near the back of the group, her bulky leather satchel hanging off her shoulder and although she can't see past the towering figures of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle in front of her, she can still pick up the scent wafting over from the potion the Professor is hovered by.

Vanilla, rosemary, and a musky, spicy sort of scent tickle Darcey's nose as her feet seem to move on their own accord, pressing her closer to the two boys in front of her, as she tries to get a better glimpse of the euphoric liquid. When Goyle turns back to look at her funny she seems to snap out of her trance and quickly shuffles backward, muttering a sheepish apology as she feels her cheeks heating up.

"Who can identify this potion for me?" Slughorn begins, clapping his hands together.

A hand shoots up from somewhere in the front row. "_Yes Miss Granger_?"

"That sir, is Amortentia or otherwise referred to as love potion. It can be identified by it's pearly sheen and unique scent for each individual drinker. For example, I smell fresh cut grass, new parchment, and spearmint." Hermione Granger, the brightest witch in Gryffindor, answers easily.

"That's correct Miss Granger, take 10 to Gryffindor!" Slughorn booms pleased with the witch's enthusiasm. "Amortentia doesn't create actual love, of course. That's impossible. But it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. For that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this classroom_." _Slughorn explains.

"Mmm that smells heavenly." Tracey whispers from beside her. "I can smell mums chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin juice, and honey."

"_All sweets, not much of a shock there_." Darcey lightly taunts her sibling earning a scowl in return.

"_Go boil your head!_" Tracey hisses, playfully jabbing her sister in the arm.

Darcey spends the remainder of the class brewing Amortentia but finds it rather impossible to concentrate with Tracey's constant rabbiting in her ear. Darcey had looked forward to sharing a N.E.W.T class with her sister as Slughorn was open to Exceeds Expectations students, giving Tracey an opportunity to join the class, but now Darcey was beginning to have second thoughts if she found it this hard to concentrate in the presence of her chatty sister.

By the end of the hour Darcey had only just barely managed to get her potion to have the pearly sheen needed to pass, but as she looked around the room only one student had managed to brew a perfect batch, with the distinct, curly wisp of smoke rising from Harry Potter's cauldrons. Darcey narrows her eyes in the direction of her blood brother, suspicious of his new, emerging talent. She hadn't even noticed he'd been here and she's reminded that Slughorn accepts students with lower marks, explaining how he got in, but not explaining how he had managed to brew a flawless love potion, better quality than hers, her fellow bright Slytherin's, Malfoy, Bullstrode and Zabini, and even Granger who always excelled in her school work.

The class was soon dismissed, but not before Harry received words of praise from Slughorn for his remarkable talent in potion making and given a phial of liquid luck. The Slytherin's nearby grumbled at the attention the golden boy received, commenting on how Snape had always played favorites with students of his _own_ house and would have never been caught praising a Gryffindor, let alone Potter. It was decided then that most Slytherin's took a disliking to Professor Slughorn.

Darcey proceeded to her next class, eager to escape the stuffy Potions classroom, feeling caustraphobic with her twin so close. Her thoughts break away to the previous night when she had learned of her identity, who she had once been.

She was a Potter, making her closer to the war than she wished to be.

Darcey just hoped if she continued to cut off her blood brother that maybe it would keep both herself and her family safe from the Dark Lord.

Darcey felt disgusted with herself for being so cowardly, but she justified it as being the only way to keep her family alive. Although they weren't her blood, they were her _family _and she loved them dearly. They _chose_ her, adopting her as their own and had always treated her exactly as they had treated their own two children.

As guilty as she felt for not choosing Harry's side, she knew she'd feel a million times worse if she had turned her back on them instead. Betraying them would make her a terrible person whereas turning against Harry only made her a selfish coward. She'd choose coward if that meant staying loyal to her family. _Harry didn't even have family_, therefore he couldn't possibly understand where Darcey was coming from and she was certain if the roles were reversed he would choose those he loved over her, a stranger to him, at least she kept telling herself that...

* * *

Later that evening Darcey had received a letter from Professor Slughorn expressing his interest in her to join him for tea that evening with a few other promising students. Darcey felt confused as to why he was reaching out to her, she had never heard of a teacher inviting their students to tea and wasn't sure what to make of it.

She read the letter again to confirm she had interpreted it right, then she set it down in between her legs on the bed and let out a frustrated sigh, not knowing what to do. A part of her was curious and wanted to attend but her antisocial side screamed against it. Coming from the witch who didn't attend the Yule Ball, she couldn't see herself going to the party knowing it'd be formal.

"What's that you've got there?" Pansy Parkinson inquires, plucking the piece of parchment from her lap and scanning it over with her muddy eyes. The other dorm mates nearby turn to look at her, now interested in the two witches conversation. Tracey stands next to Pansy, reading the note from over her shoulder, her eyes shining in jealousy.

"_You've got an invitation to the Slug Club?_" Tracey asks angrily, upset that she hadn't received one herself. It was always Darcey who got all the attention, always in the spotlight.

"I guess if that's what that rubbish is. I dunno if I'm going though." Darcey shrugs lightly, not really seeing the big deal. It's just a party, and from the sounds of it a rather boring one.

"You have to go! You're lucky you got accepted, most of us would love to attend!" Daphne speaks up from across the dormitory, her soft, pretty face lighting up in enthusiasm and her honey blond curls bouncing with her excitement.

"_You mean to say not one of you got invited?_" Darcey asks bewildered. What was so special about her that Slughorn had sought her out from her peers, perhaps her top marks had attracted his attention. Maybe the Slug Club was for bright students.

"Blaise Zabini got invited." Millicent Bullstrode, a thick boned girl with short hair and a chubby face, interrupts adding new information to the conversation.

"So that makes just us two then?" Darcey confirms. That doesn't make sense, if Slughorn invited the brightest of students then Malfoy and Bullstrode should have been invited as well. Together, the four of them had the best marks in Slytherin. So what qualities _does_ Slughorn base his decision on if not intellect? Darcy wonders.

"He must think you're valuable." Pansy states as if reading her mind. "He's looking to collect you."

"Collect me?" Darcey frowns in disgust. "I'm a person, not an object!" She retorts, feeling deeply offended.

Pansy smirks down at her, leaning against the wall near her bed and handing her back the letter. "Well then, I suppose you're not going?" She asks smoothly, looking relieved. '_I'm no longer a threat to her, that's why she looks so pleased.'_ Darcey mentally pieces together, realizing how jealous she must feel for being a prefect and not being invited herself. This realization alone almost sways her to go, but she really has no desire to attend, or else she would go just to toy with the girl.

Taking Darcey's silence as a yes, Tracey plops down on the bed in front of her sister, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and giving her a shake. "Are you barking mad? You have to go! Do you know how proud mum and dad will be to hear you've got accepted to the Slug Club? They were both members themselves." Tracey bellows.

"_They were?_" Darcey asks, thoroughly surprised by the news.

"Yes, do you know nothing?_"_ Tracey snaps despite casting her sister a cheeky grin.

"If I could, I'd go myself but it seems Slughorn fancies you so you have to go for the both of us." Tracey explains, all jealousy leaving her voice and replaced with excitement as she hurries over to the wardrobe looking for a dress for Darcey to wear.

"Oh! Let me charm your hair, will you?" Daphne gets up, pulling her wand from her robe and appearing ecstatic to have a new victim to test her magic on.

"You keep that bloody thing away from me!" Darcey counters firmly. "My hair stays as is."

* * *

Evening falls over Hogwarts as deep pink and violet hues streak the sky, casting an orange glow through its windows, blazing the corridors in fiery light.

The click-clacking of Blaise Zabini's dress shoes echo loudly off the walls as Darcey walks alongside him to Slughorn's office.

Darcey's happy she chose to wear flats instead of heels, preferring her strides to remain undetected. She finds the loud clacking of dress shoes to be annoying and impractical. _She'd rather not prance down the halls sounding like a bloody Hippogriff. _

She looks down, smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her dress, choosing an above the knee, satin, maroon number over the sparkly silver dress Tracey had tried to convince her to wear. It was far too flashy for Darcey's taste and she preferred to wear darker tones, so they came to a compromise with this one.

Her messy, untamed, hair clashes with the sophisticated, polished look of her attire but there was no way she was letting Greengrass come anywhere near her hair with her wand, so it would just have to do.

Darcey feels a nervous aura settling over her as she begins to dread her decision to go to the party. She hopes it's an intimate group, feeling uncomfortable with large crowds and as if sensing her anxiety Blaise speaks up from beside her, catching her with his warm, amber eyes.

"_Relax. There's nothing to be nervous about. They won't bite._" Blaise states smoothly, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Darcey looks over at him, biting the inside of her lip, a nervous habit. "Is it that obvious I'm freaking out?" Darcey wonders aloud.

"Dead obvious. You might want to stop fidgeting so much, it's driving me barmy." Blaise replies, watching as Darcey flattens her dress for the hundredth time, she stops when she notices him looking, forcing her hands to remain still.

"_I don't like people_." Darcey states as if this is a perfectly reasonable excuse.

"Neither do I but acting like a nutter will only draw more attention to yourself. Have a breath and calm your nerves, _relax Davis_." Blaise advices and Darcey listens, taking a deep breath and tilting her head up a little higher. '_You can do this, you are a Potter afterall, where's those brave Gryffindor genes when I need them?_' Darcey mentally taunts herself, wondering if her birth parents were indeed placed in Gryffindor, she realizes then that she doesn't know anything about them. She decides to do some family research when she gets the chance. She'd like to know more about her roots, more about her heritage. '_Am I even pureblood?_' Darcey faintly wonders.

All Darcey knows about herself is what Dumbledore showed to her last night. She recalls the beautiful, ginger haired witch with bright green eyes holding a pair of newborn twins, a baby in each arm. She lay in a hospital bed, a tired look in her eyes, the exhaustion that comes with giving birth but also smiling down at her babies with pure joy and relief reflecting in her orbs.

Her birth mother had told Dumbledore that Darcey was ill, born more premature of the two, and that she needed to stay in St. Mungo's Neonatal Intensive Care Ward. Her mother had asked Dumbledore to look after the newborn.

Darcey hadn't even seen a glimpse of her birth father in the memory and wondered what he looked like. Dumbldore only shown her a few flashbacks, including that one and a conversation with a healer at St. Mungo's discussing her birth parents death and Dumbledore's plan to separate the twins.

Darcey's is interrupted from her thoughts as she takes note of Blaise politely holding the door open for her. They've arrived to their destination, Slughorn's supper party.

Darcey slips in past him and into the office, happy to see that there's far less people here than she had anticipated, easing her social anxiety.

She takes an open spot at the large round table in the center of the room, and feels the eyes of the other students burning into her skin but tries not to let it get to her. At least a somewhat familiar face is present, Blaise is here with her and for that she's thankful.

"So happy you could make it Miss Davis, Zabini too!" Professor Slughorn beams at the pair as they take the open seats.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sir." Blaise replies, his voice silky smooth.

Darcey peers around the table, curious to see who else the teacher has 'collected.' Throughout the supper party she learns more about what inspired Slughorn to collect each student and what made them valuable in his eyes.

Sitting next to her is Gryffindor Quidditch captain Cormac McLaggen, a wealthy pureblood boy whose uncle Tiberius works for the Ministry.

Next to him is Ginny Weasley, a fifth year Gryffindor who seems to have been chosen based solely on her popularity, she's also on the house Quidditch team and Slughorn enjoyed her Bat Bogey hex he'd witnessed her casting on the train yesterday.

Hermione Granger is present, being chosen for her intellect and of course her blood brother is here, everyone in the wizarding world knows why Slughorn would want to collect the famous Harry Potter.

Sitting directly across from Darcey are the Carrow twins, Flora and Hestia, who share her house, a year beneath her. They're both dressed in matching jade dresses with pointed collars and deep pockets. They're a bit shy but have always seemed pleasant enough. Darcey learns that like other well known wizarding families like the Malfoy's, Parkinson's, Nott's, and Greengrass', the Carrow's are members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and she assumes that's why Slughorn chose them. The Sacred Twenty-Eight were considered to be the purest of the all pureblood wizarding families, and although the Davis family was pureblood they hadn't made the list.

Between the twins and Professor Slughorn is Melinda Bobbin, a Hufflepuff fifth year whose family owns a chain of Apothecaries. On the other side of Slughorn is Blaise seated between the professor and Darcey.

Time seems to go at an excruciatingly slow speed and it feels as if they've been eating supper for hours, as the conversation drags on and on, thanks to Slughorn's chatty nature and the booze he's been consuming all night making him extra bubbly.

Finally the supper party comes to a close at last and Darcey has to practically stop herself from _fleeing_ from the office, never having been more eager to get back to her dorm.

As she enters the deserted Slytherin common room she glances over at the grandfather clock noticing that the dinner party has indeed lasted _hours_, being already 10pm.

Darcey slips into her pajamas. Still feeling the buzzing effects of socializing, she's too awake to go straight to bed. She decides to unwind in the common room, bringing with her a book to help her relax.

When she comes to the bottom of the steps she realizes she's not alone. Draco Malfoy sits in one of the leather armchairs near the fireplace, gazing into the crackling flames, appearing to deep in thought.

Darcey tries not to disturb him, taking a seat on the couch behind him and keeping to herself, hidden in the shadows.

From the corner of her eye she notices him glance over at her but he stays silent, not voicing whether or not he has a problem with her presence. Not that she gives a pile of dung what the prat thinks of her. Therefore both Slytherins continue to ignore each other entirely and soon Darcey manages to almost completely forget Malfoy's even there as she becomes so absorbed in her reading.

Darcey finds Dark Magic fascinating but understands why it isn't taught at Hogwarts, being very dangerous when placed in the wrong hands. Regardless, the branch of magic could be extremely useful if mastered and placed in a situation where you're forced to defend yourself from evil wizards. In fact Darcey's father had been the one to give her this book, pulling her aside and encouraging her to read into the dark spells. She had been confused at the time as to why he chose to entrust in her with the old, leather tome. Back then she had assumed it to be because she was the more responsible of the two sisters and he had perhaps felt that unlike Tracey, Darcey would take the book seriously, knowing the dark spells and curses inside weren't meant fool around with.

Now that Darcey knows who she is, she wonders if her father knew who she was and chose to give the book to her for an entirely different reason. I_s it possible he knew there was a chance she'd be thrust into the war and forced to fight? Had he known that she was Harry Potter's sister and that Voldemort would come after her at some point?_ She sincerely hoped she was wrong because if Darcey found out that her parents had kept such vital information from her all these years she'd be devastated, feeling as if they'd deeply betrayed her. _How could she trust anybody ever again then? If she discovered her own family had kept a dangerous secret from her, knowing that keeping her in the dark put her life in danger?_

Darcey presses her book shut with a soft _thunk_. Rising from the couch, she makes her way over to one of the cherry wood desks, grabbing a piece of spare parchment and dipping one of the old quills in a bottle of ink. She begins to write her father a letter, aware that she has to choose her words carefully since communicating by post isn't always secure.

_'Hello Dad, _

_Hope everything's well at home, tell mum and Roger I said 'Hi.'_

_I'm writing you to ask if there's any way we could talk by fire this week, or as soon as possible. I know you're busy with work but it's very important. _

_Also I made the Slug Club, Tracey says you and mum were members, I hadn't known that. Wondering what else I don't know about you two. '_

Darcey decides against writing the last sentence and crumples up the letter to start over again fresh, leaving that part out and replacing it with a gentler, '_Hope to hear from you soon. With love, Darcey'_' She scans over the new letter and decides she's satisfied. She sticks it inside the first page of her book as a reminder to herself to stop by the owlery first thing tomorrow morning.

* * *

The next day Darcey sends off her letter in the Owlery before making her way to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class with her Head of House, Professor Snape. It's strange to see her favorite teacher not teaching Potions this year. It seems so out of place, yet as she enters the classroom, it seems Snape's made himself right at home.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is much gloomier than Darcey recalled it being the previous year. The curtains are drawn tight leaving the only source of light in the room being the candle sconces aligning the walls. The flickering firelight casts eerie shadows upon the new gruesome pictures adorning the room, which depict witches and wizards looking in pain and severely injured. The picture closest to Darcey shows a wizard in what looks to be a rather agonizing position, his limbs severely contorted. It reminds her of the dead spider she stomped upon in her dormitory this morning, it's corpse shriveled, eight legs bent at harsh angles.

Snape strides into the classroom, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. His dark, narrowed eyes scan over the group of students, causing some like Neville Longbottom, to fidget slightly under the Professor's intense gaze. Darcey like some of her peers pulls out her copy of 'Confronting the Faceless' and lays it on her desk in front of her, eager to begin the lesson.

"You won't be needing your books today." Snape says, catching Darcey's movement. She nods, hastily shoving the book back inside her satchel, slung on the back of her chair.

Snape whips around to face the chalkboard, writing sloppily the word '_Unforgivables_' and underlining it.

"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructable."

"Your defenses" Says Snape a little louder, speaking over the excited whispers resounding from his house. "Must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo." He explains, his black hair hanging like curtains around his face. His ebony eyes scan over the group of students. "Which one of you can tell me what the three Unforgivable Curses are?" Snape asks, ignoring Hermione Grangers hand shot up in the air, and instead choosing a member of his own house to give the answer.

"_Cruciatus, Imperius and Killing curses, sir." _Theodore Nott answers, earning 10 points to Slytherin.

"_Correct_." Snape drawls in low tones.

"The three Unforgivable Curses were made illegal in 1717, since then any use of the curses will land you a jail cell in Azkaban." Snape says coldly.

"Did you know that it's possible to defend oneself from the Imperius curse?" Snape informs. The class seems to be extremely interest now, most of the students not knowing this about the curse, as far as they had known the Unforgivables were unforgivable because it was impossible to defend oneself from them.

Darcey belongs to the minority who has a basic knowledge of the Dark Arts, therefore she already knows where Professor Snape is going with this but doesn't raise her hand, hating to answer questions in class because it draws too much attention to herself. She's a rather reserved girl.

"There's no a spell that can protect you from the Unforgivable curses, although, it's possible to resist the effects of the Imperius curse, but it requires a great strength of will and character." Snape explains and Darcey notices him cast Harry a piercing glare.

"What isn't taught your school books, is what it feels like to be under the influence of these curses. Look around the room." Snape gestures to the shadowy, gruesome pictures. "And you can see the effects of the Cruciatus curse, a dementors kiss, and imferi. Yet, unlike its brothers, the Imperius curse isn't an unpleasant experience for the victim, in fact quite the opposite, for the victim falls under a trance-like state in which all feeling of responsibility and anxiety are washed from the mind. It's said to be a deeply relaxing, pleasant sensation." Snape says moving down the middle of the isle, standing over Parkinson, who has her hand eagerly raised.

"Are we going to perform the Imperius curse today, sir?" Pansy asks excitedly, nearly bouncing in her seat.

Professor Snape scowls down at her, revolted by her ignorance. "I should add, if cast poorly the Imperius curse has irreversible, damaging effects on the mind. Many have gone insane from being repeatedly placed under the curse, or by being placed under by an _incompetent_ wizard." Snape hisses coldly, causing Parkinson to sink back into her chair.

"Today we will be practicing nonverbal spells. You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other_ without speaking_. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in _equal silence_. Carry on." Snape commands, gliding back to the front of the classroom as excited chattering erupts from the students.

Darcey nearly groans as she realizes she doesn't have a partner as Tracey and Daphne team up leaving her to be a third wheel. She looks around the room watching as the other students get into pairs, the last ones left on the Slytherin side of the room are Draco Malfoy and herself.

Darcey reluctantly walks over to him, claiming him to be her partner.

With the flick of Snape's wand the desks and chairs push back against the walls, clearing a large area for the students to practice.

Darcey get's into the dueling position, putting some distance between Malfoy and herself and bowing to show good sportsmanship before they begin.

Darcey clears her mind, knowing that performing a nonverbal spell requires a great deal of concentration and mental discipline. She's only ever performed a nonverbal spell once before and it had taken her a lot of practice over the summer to do so.

On Snapes count they begin, the only rule being they aren't allowed to speak.

At first nothing happens and the room is deadly silent. It seems that for many of the students this is their first time doing a nonverbal spell.

Darcey refocuses her mind, pulling away from the people around her and looking directly at her target. She feels the gentle, swirling sensation of her magic flowing through her, she works to channel it, redirecting the trickling, stream-like energy to flow forcefully through her wand. She thinks the spell in her head, '_Stupefy_' and with a burst of blue light, the simple stunner makes it's way towards her opponent.

Malfoy successfully casts a nonverbal '_protego_' as the bright blue shield easily absorbs Darcey's spell. Malfoy fires a spell of his own and Darcey recognizes the wand movement as '_Expelliarmus_', a simple disarming spell.

Darcey easily dodges it, stepping aside and not even bothering to cast a shield.

Once again she concentrates on her magic, willing it to bend to her will. Now that she knows Malfoy is capable of defending himself, she tries a harder spell.

'_Depulso_', a red hex corkscrews through the air making contact with Malfoys shield as he easily deflects it. Without warning Malfoy casts a silent, unfamiliar hex as a bright orange light coils quickly towards her. It penetrates her shield, being a much stronger spell than Darcey had anticipated and makes contact with her shoulder, burning her flesh.

Darcey cries out in pain, wincing as she covers her hand over the stinging, tender, raw flesh. Anger swarms inside her as she glares back at Malfoy, giving him her fiercest look of loathing. Her rage seems to add power to her hex as her magic easily cooperates with her now, ready do her bidding. '_confringo_'

Malfoy barely dodges the attack as he lunges violently to his right, the spell makes contact with the bookshelf behind him as it explodes and catches fire, as if hit by a live grenade. Pieces of scorched parchment rain down upon the classroom, fluttering to the floor and collecting like dead, autumn leaves.

The entire class is now staring at the pair of Slytherin's, some looking impressed, some angry but most looking fearful. Darcey purposely avoids glancing in Harry's direction, afraid to see the look on her blood brothers face.

Professor Snape breaks through the crowd of students, looking utterly furious which is terrifying considering Darcey has never seen the Professor show any emotion other than cold indifference. His low, chilling voice penetrates the silence of the room as he dismisses the other students before yanking Draco and Darcey by the collar of their robes and dragging them into his office.

He casts a '_muffliato_' on the room to prevent any lingering ease-droppers from listening in as he yells at them.

"_How dare you use dark magic in my classroom. You could have killed each other._" Snape growls, his voice dripping with venom. The Head of House looks furiously between the two Slytherins for an explanation for their foolish and dangerous behavior.

"_I'm sorry sir. I wasn't thinking_." Darcey frowns, bowing her head down in shame. "_It got out of hand_." She agrees.

Malfoy on the other hand shows no remorse, staying silent and even having the audacity to glare back up defiantly at Snape. Darcey can't decide who looks more enraged and silently wishes for Snape to put the prat in his place, but instead they manage to miraculously get off with just a simple but threatening warning. Although she knows full well that next time Snape won't be so lenient.

* * *

Draco doesn't notice as his peers get up and move about the room claiming partners to duel with, until he notices Darcey Davis hovered over his desk waiting for him.

Draco's mind is distracted as he robotically stands up, putting a bit of distance between him and his partner, giving them adequate room to practice the nonverbal spells.

Draco's still deeply consumed with his failure to mend the vanishing cabinet. The spell he's been using to attempt to repair the magical cupboard is an advanced and complicated one, much too difficult for a sixth year student, added he's not even sure if the spell he's chosen is the correct one, which doesn't help his cause.

So far he hasn't seen any promising results, as his attempts to fix the artifact have been unsuccessful thus far. The Death Eater finds it nearly impossible to focus on his schoolwork with his mind always obsessing over the progress of his mission, or lack there of.

Draco pulls himself together, bringing his attention back to the witch across from him with a rats nest for hair. '_Hadn't the girl ever heard of a comb?_' Draco eyebrows furrow in disgust.

On the count of three Snape instructs them to begin. Draco hesitates, although he already knows how to perform nonverbal spells. He doesn't want to expose his skill level so he waits for Davis to make the first move, deciding that he doesn't need to draw more attention to himself by showing off. The whole school is already buzzing with gossip of Draco's father being exposed as a Death Eater and the last thing he needs is for them to suspect him too.

He can't blow his cover. It's crucial that Dumbledore doesn't catch onto his intentions to murder him or else he will be deemed useless to the Dark Lord and face death alongside his family.

No, he didn't need any more attention, quite the opposite actually, he needed to stay under the radar and get the hell off the grid. He needed to _disappear_.

After a minute Davis manages to successfully cast a stunner, which Draco easily blocks despite only paying half attention. Still, he's impressed by how quickly she's learned to cast a nonverbal. It had taken Draco nearly two weeks to get it right.

Draco shoots a disarming spell at her, which she easily dodges, side stepping the spell. After a moment she moves her wand in a jagged motion as a red hex spirals towards him.

Once again he casts '_Protego_' and the bright blue shield turns to purple as it absorbs Davis' red hex.

It seems his opponent is getting too confident and Draco decides she needs to be put back in her place. '_I'll show her a proper hex_.'

The teenage Death Eater channels his darkest magic, summoning a rather nasty hex, '_Ignis Flagello'_ he mentally bellows as a blazing, orange fire whip snakes through the air towards the unsuspecting girl. The dark spell is no match for the 'Protego' shield Davis produces, as it easily penetrates her barrier and lashes out at her, making contact with her shoulder.

She cries out in pain clutching her arm. Davis' sapphire eyes turn a dark, stormy blue as she glares back at up at him through tangled locks of hair.

Draco is surprised that Davis has the courage to cast her next spell and he's lucky to recognize the wand movements as '_Confringo_' a dark magic spell that uses heat to cause an immediate explosion upon impact, or else he wouldn't of had time to throw himself out of the deadly spell's path. However, that doesn't stop a piece of debris from cutting across his back as spell collides into the bookshelf behind him, causing a violently, deafening explosion. Draco's ears ring from the close proximity of the explosion and he scowls at the foolish girl who was ignorant enough to use such a destructive spell in the confines of a classroom, in front of a teacher and students, no less. '_Davis is reckless and idiotic. Surely she belongs in Gryffindor.' _Draco seethes, feeling ashamed that he shares the same house with someone so bloody stupid._  
_

Draco feels the eyes of his classmates burning into him, which is exactly what he had been trying to avoid, drawing more attention to himself. '_Curse that stupid, foul wench.'_

As a heavy silence hangs over the room, rendering the students speechless, Draco pushes himself up off the floor, dusting the debris from his robes as Snape coldly dismisses the class. He roughly yanks Draco by his robes and pulls him into his office and away from curious, nosy stares of his peers.

"_How dare you use dark magic in my classroom. You could have killed each other_." Snape scolds, looking between Davis and Malfoy.

Draco doesn't offer him an explanation, feeling he hasn't done anything wrong_. 'It was Davis after all who blew up half the classroom, not him.' _Draco reasons.

"_I'm sorry sir. I wasn't thinking_." Davis is apologizing. "_It got out of hand_." - '_Understatement of the year.' _Draco thinks to himself._ 'That stupid bitch nearly killed me!_ _Wait 'til my father hears about this-_' He automatically fumes before realizing his father can't do anything, he has no more political power now that he's a prisoner.

Snape gives Draco a long, piercing look, disappointment and anger reflecting in his ebony eyes. Draco glares right back at him, in no mood to deal with the elder Death Eater.

Since his mother had gone to Snape to convince him to help Draco with his mission, Draco had suddenly hated the man. In his mind he didn't need help from _anyone_. He was perfectly capable of completing his mission on his own. The Dark Lord had chose _him_ after all, to kill Albus Dumbledore, and Draco felt that Snape was only interfering as an attempt to steal away the young Death Eater's glory and gain favor with the Dark Lord. After all, the other followers all suspected Snape to be a blood-traitor. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord began to question his loyalty.

Snape let's them off with a warning before sending them to the Hospital Wing, deciding that their painful injuries and wounded pride are punishment enough for now.

* * *

Darcey and Draco walk alongside each other in heavy silence. Darcey clutching her injured shoulder and Draco walking with a slight limp, it could have been worse, with the spells they threw at each other, both students were lucky to have not been seriously injured, or _killed_.

The stinging, intense burning pain radiating from Darcey's shoulder makes the witch grind her teeth together in discomfort. By the time they reach the Hospital wing she's beginning to feel lightheaded, her jaw clenched tightly. Whatever that curse was that Malfoy had used against her, it was definitely black magic.

The school nurse, an elderly white haired witch with kind, crystal blue eyes, directs each of them to lie down on a cot, side-by-side.

Darcey doesn't look over at Draco, afraid she'll murder him for putting her through this much pain. Her arm is in agony, as the healer helps her remove her school robe and cuts at the seam of her sleeve. The blouse is ruined anyway, with a large hole burned crisp into the fabric so cutting the sleeve off isn't going to matter at this point therefore Darcey doesn't object to the mutilation of her blouse.

She cranes her neck to get a better view of her injury but the healer tells her to stop moving and rest, pushing her to lie back down. Darcey obeys, letting out a hiss as the healer pour a clear mystery liquid on the burn, causing the pain to flare up momentarily.

"Merlin, I hate you." Darcey huffs to the foul git beside her.

Draco is lying on his stomach as another healer works on his exposed back, cleaning the wound. Darcey hadn't even realized he was hurt, though the thought doesn't seem to bring her any relief.

"I warned you not to pick fights out of your league." Malfoy manages to smirk, so he must not be in enough pain, Darcey decides.

"Funny, you're in the hospital with me." Darcey counters cheekily, allowing the furious look on the boy's face bring her a little relief, distracting her from her shoulder.

"_You got lucky, that's all_." Malfoy argues sourly, wincing as the healer plucks a splinter from his open wound.

"That's enough you too, less bickering and more resting." Darcey's nurse firmly scolds from beside her, her tone maternal.

After roughly an hour, both students are cleaned up and permitted to go to the Great Hall for supper. Perfect timing too, as Darcey was beginning to feel peckish.

The burn in her shoulder doesn't seem to be responding well to treatment, still stinging fiercely. Darcey assumes it's part of the curses nature to resist healing, and Darcey begins to wonder where Draco picked up on such dark magic.

Perhaps Lucius Malfoy wasn't the only Death Eater in the family. Perhaps Draco's open threat packed more meaning than Darcey had considered before, what if he really_ was _out of her league? _Could Draco Malfoy actually be a Death Eater? _And if he was, Darcey had to ensure her housemate never got word of her secret, for surely he'd take it directly to Voldemort.

Slytherins were notorious for being power-hungry, they had a sort of ruthless determination about them and were types considered to be capable of doing just about anything to get what they desired.

So if Malfoy had become a Death Eater over the summer, and if he discovered that Darcey was Harry's sister, he would use the information to gain favor in the Dark Lord and rise in the ranks.

Darcey decided she couldn't risk making enemies with Draco, although, unfortunately for her it might be too late…


	4. Chapter 4: Hercules Slayed the Beast

It's a warm, breezy September day, perfect Quidditch weather. Darcey is happy it's Friday and the first week of school is coming to a close. The warm sunshine and cloudless blue skies seem to greatly uplift her mood this morning as she eats her muffin by the lake. A light breeze passes by ruffling her curly hair and making it appear even messier than usual.

Tracey and Daphne are sprawled out next to her, discussing the first Quidditch game of the season.

"I heard Blaise is team captain this year. Merlin, he looks _gorgeous _riding a broomstick." Daphne fantasizes, letting out a contented sigh.

"He's not much my type." Tracey shrugs taking a bite out of her crunchy apple.

"Well who _is_ your type then?" Daphne counters, arching a thin brow.

"_I don't kiss and tell_." Tracey replies her nose upturned towards the autumn sky.

"_That's because she's never kissed a boy_." Darcey chimes in her tone matter of fact, earning a swift nudge to her shoulder in return. "Sod off!" Tracey bellows before her face morphs into a look of concern as Darcey flinches away from her touch, a pained look on her features.

"My shoulder is killing me." Darcey explains, catching her sister's worried look.

"Didn't you go to the hospital wing?" Tracey asks confused.

"Yeah, but Malfoy's curse is- well, _cursed_. It doesn't seem to be responding to anything, and using magic just seems to make it worse. I guess I'll just have to let it heal the natural way." Darcey frowns, never having encountered such a dark spell. She didn't even know it was possible to _curse_ a curse.

She shudders suddenly, just as another light breeze rolls by. Darcey had decided at the beginning of the week to stay away from Malfoy as much as possible. She was now convinced he was a Death Eater and she didn't need to go making enemies with him if she could help it. In fact maybe she should try to be more civil towards him but before she can entertain the idea further she's ripped from her thoughts by her friend's idle chatter.

"_Who knew Draco knew how to use such dark magic_." Daphne comments excitedly, her tone sounding intrigued, as if this is something to be impressed over.

"Speaking of dark magic, where did you learn that spell?" Tracey diverts the conversation back to her sister, her syrupy brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I read it somewhere a while ago." Darcey shrugs. She decides not to tell Tracey about the Dark Arts book their father had given her over the summer, knowing it would cause a rift between the father and daughter. Tracey would be insanely jealous and demand to see the book for herself, and Darcey couldn't risk her throwing around dark curses at anyone who got on her nerves. The girl was already very hotheaded and her friendship with Pansy Parkinson was beginning to have a negative impact on her. Darcey had seen them together just yesterday stealing chocolate frogs from a first year until she had gotten between them and made Tracey give back the sweets, telling her not to be such a '_bloody_ _fat hag'_.

"_Well I'd tone down on the black magic for a little while, the whole school now seems to think you're a Death Eater_." Tracey smirks, chuckling as Darcey gags on her banana nut muffin.

"_What!?_" Darcey shouts, thoroughly shocked with the news. "_Has everyone gone mad!? Me? A Death Eater? As if I'd ever!"_

"You _did_ almost blow up Draco Malfoy. Lucky he got out of the way or bloody bits of flesh would have been raining down on us instead of parchment and rubbish." Tracey muses with a twisted grin.

"Okay, you do have a point I suppose…" Darcey reasons. "But it doesn't matter. _I didn't kill him_. In fact, he did more damage to me. So, if anyone should be suspected of being a Death Eater it should be _Malfoy_, right?" Darcey argues, feeling rage bubbling up inside her. This new rumor only makes her loathe the boy more so, if that was even possible. It is totally unfair that she is taking the heat for their duel. _He_ had been the one to use dark magic first, did that not account for anything?

"It _did_ look bad. You were pretty terrifying. I know I wouldn't want to be the one to get on your bad side." Daphne beams, as if her statement is intended to be a compliment, but the other Slytherin doesn't feel very flattered. "Try to look on the bright side, no one is ever going to mess with you now and fear _does_ come with some advantages." Daphne proposes.

"I guess I'd just rather not have people thinking I'm evil." Darcey frowns. She's usually not the type to be bothered by what her peers think of her, never having cared before, but being called a Death Eater really doesn't sit well with her. Maybe because she already feels bad enough for turning her back on Harry, she already feels like a horrible person and now everyone else is convinced she's horrible too.

The uplifting atmosphere seems to suddenly shift darker as the nice weather seems to have lost its pleasant effect on the witch.

"_I'm going to class_." Darcey grumbles, scooping up her schoolbag and trudging back up to the castle. She's no longer in the mood to be around her friends.

* * *

Each year students have to choose one elective course to take apart from their required courses. For the past three years Darcey has chosen Divination as her elective and found that she actually enjoyed the class that her peers considered to be barmy.

Most students chose to take Divination because it was easy to pass and had hardly any homework.

As Darcey walks into the heavily incensed and stuffy, hot classroom located in the North Tower, she scans her eyes for an open seat.

This class is mixed, with students of each of the four houses coming together. Slytherin's seem to be in the minority as she notices only a handful of fellow snakes signed up for the course this year.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle occupy one table, leaving Malfoy alone at the table behind them. Darcey is reluctant to sit with him but it appears he's the only one partner-less leaving her no other choice.

She slings her satchel over the back of the chair and slides in across from him casting him a small, nervous smile.

_"Hi."_ She awkwardly greets, pulling out her textbook.

A pair of icy gray eyes scan over at her form, before coming back to rest on her face.

"Hello." Malfoy greets back coolly, not objecting to her partnering with him.

The pair of Slytherin's spent the next few minutes in silence as they wait for Professor Trelawney to emerge from her office.

Darcey is relieved when the lesson begins, eager to have something to focus her attention on instead of feigning interest in her peers, purposely avoiding the eyes of the boy next to her.

Professor Sybill Trelawney is a lanky, frail looking witch with long, frizzy, mousy brown hair and large, round spectacles that dramatically magnify her cloudy, gray orbs. She's often adorned in bohemian style robes with lots of beads and fringe. Although a bit '_out there_' and odd, Darcey has always held a certain fondness for the teacher and secretly admired her unique, open-minded nature and intuitiveness.

_"So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…" _Trelawney begins, reciting the introduction she uses each year.

"Today we will be focusing on Astology. Can any of you tell me what Astrology is?" Trelawney asks, her magnified orbs peering around the room.

A hand shoots up from down near the front row as Pavarti Patil answers enthusiastically. Like Darcey, the Gryffindor girl has a fondness for the subject.

"Astrology consists of several systems of divination based on the premise that there is a relationship between astronomical phenomena and the events that occur in our lives. Astrology deals with horoscopes or predictions for each of the twelve signs of the zodiac, typically focusing on sun signs but also delving into moon and ascending signs, as well as natal charts." The attractive, tan Gryffindor girl answers. Her brown eyes glistening beneath long, full lashes.

"Very good, my dear!" Trelawney beams, clapping her boney hands together in enthusiasm.

"As Miss Patil said, there are twelve signs of the zodiac. The signs are represented by greek mythological beings and divided into four representing elements. Earth, Water, Fire, and Air." Trelawney explains, snaking her way between tables, and ascending the levels of the vertical classroom.

"Turn to page 166 in your textbooks to discover more about your sign and discuss the information with your partner. Together you will write a 2,000 word essay on the compatibility of your sun signs and gain a deeper perspective of one another." Trelawney instructs, stopping at Loony Lovegood and Terry Boot's table.

"Tell me, quickly! What are your signs?" Trelawney eagerly demands, resting her hand on each of the Ravenclaw's shoulders as she crouches in between them.

"Aquarius ma'am." Lovegood proudly smiles, peering up at the Professor through a curtain of long, curly, white-blonde hair.

"Erm… I haven't the faintest idea." Boot sheepishly admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I sense an earthy quality to you, definitely Taurus, perhaps even Virgo." Trelawney predicts before frowning between the too of them, a grave look on her features.

"A bad match, very bad match." Trelawney murmurs.

Darcey turns to her Divination textbook, turning to page 166 and looking up her zodiac sign.

"Well go on, what's yours?" Draco asks from across from her, quill in hand. It's clear he wants to get this ridiculous assignment done and over with as quickly as possible.

"Leo." Darcey supplies, momentarily admiring his sharp, slanted penmanship "Want me to read it off and you can write it?" Darcey offers, trying her hand at being civil with the boy.

"Whatever." Draco shrugs coldly, pausing to wait for her to continue.

"Okay. Defining characteristic of Leo, warm-hearted, action-oriented, driven by the desire to be loved and admired, ambitious, dignified, fearless and strong." Darcey pauses to give Malfoy a moment to catch up.

"Leo's have and air of royalty about them and often find themselves in the limelight… Leo's can be overbearing, opinionated and stubborn. "

"Sounds spot on." Malfoy snickers. Darcey chooses to ignore his comment, tilting her chin up a little higher as she continues.

"Leo's are self-confident, loyal and devoted, creative and idealistic, they make for excellent leaders." Darcey finishes her summary, waiting again for him to write down her words. Despite writing so fast, Draco's handwriting somehow manages to stay neat and narrow. Darcey finds this mildly impressive and is glad she wasn't chosen to write, now embarrassed by her large, loopy font.

"I think we should include the legend behind our Greek mythological creatures, it'll take up a good chunk of the essay." Darcey suggests as her eyes scan over the paragraph.

"_You're in charge, Davis_." Malfoy smirks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "_Let's have a look at these grand leadership abilities of yours, shall we?"_ Malfoy taunts challenging Davis to lose her cool with him. Surprisingly, the haughty Slytherin stays civil, her tone remaining calm as she carries on, once more ignoring his snide remark.

"In ancient Greek mythology Leo was identified as the Nemean Lion killed by Hercules. According to legend the Lion would take women hostage to the lair in it's cave, luring local warriors to save the damsel in distress, to their misfortune the Lion was impervious to any weaponry; thus, the warriors clubs, swords, and spears were rendered useless against it."

"Daft muggles, using _clubs_ and _spears_." Draco wrinkles his nose in disgust.

Darcey can't help but smirk, finding his comment funny as she tries not to grin.

"Realizing that he must defeat the Lion with his bare hands, Hercules slipped into the Lion's cave and engaged it at close quarters. When the Lion pounced, Hercules caught it in midair, one hand grasping the Lion's forelegs and the other its hind legs, and bent it backwards, breaking its back and freeing the trapped damsels. Zeus commemorated this labor by placing the Lion in the sky, hence the constellation of Leo." Darcey finishes, finding the Greek legend to be rather fascinating.

"Okay, what's your sign?" Darcey asks once her partner is finished writing.

"_Hell if I know_." Malfoy scoffs. "I don't buy into this rubbish." He states with disgust, leaning back in his chair and locking his arms over his chest.

Darcey can't help but roll her eyes, feeling thoroughly annoyed with him by now.

"_Well love, it's simple really. All you have to do is give me your birthday. Think you can manage that for me, princess?_" Darcey replies in a sickeningly sweet tone, putting on her most innocent and charming smile. Malfoy narrows his stormy gray eyes into a dark slits as he scowls back at her.

"_Fifth of June_." He mutters in glacial tones.

"_Ah-Ha!_ Gemini. _See darling, was that so hard?_" Darcey grins, giddy with herself for managing to thoroughly twist the boys knickers in a bunch, judging by the look of loathing on Malfoy's face, if looks could kill she'd be dead five minutes ago.

"_Gemini, let's see…Conceited, arrogant, evil, immature bullies, cry babies who sulk when they don't get their way, socially inept and rude_." Darcey can't stop herself from pissing off the boy further, her lips twitching into a satisfied smirk at his reaction.

Draco looks as if he's about to hex her and Darcey notices his knuckles turning white from the death grip he has on his quill.

"_Leo, let's see then._" Draco hisses coldly. "_Filthy, Unkept, reckless and stupid, irrational fear of combs, pretentious and cocky, antisocial losers who bury themselves in books because they don't have any friends." _Draco mocks cruelly, his icy gray eyes piercing through the girl sitting across from him.

"_Spot on_." Darcey replies in a hollow, emotionless tone. For some reason Malfoy's words really stung at her, leaving her feeling empty and bitter. '_Maybe because he's right, at least the last part's true.' _Although, Darcey knew she was a bright witch and maintained proper hygiene, in fact, she was a very neat person for the exception of sporting a bit of a bed head look each day, but just because her hair was _untamed _didn't mean it was _unclean_. Regardless, most of what Malfoy had said had been true and it really hurt her pride to admit it.

Darcey's mood turns serious again, as she turns to her textbook and with no more goofing off, recites the true characteristics of Gemini.

"Characteristics of Gemini, intelligent, quick-witted, quick-thinking, fast on their feet, curious, clever, charming, and skilled socializers, their minds are the driving force behind their conversations." Darcey reads.

"Some tend to perceive their logical thought process as being _cold _and _unemotional_." The Leo pauses, letting the information hang in the air before continuing.

"Gemini's can get bored easily, becoming restless and fidgety and are prone to being wishy-washy, changing their mood on a whim. Gemini's are flexible, go with the flow types, adaptable and dexterous, they can tackle many things at once. When in love Gemini's are playful, flirtatious and make for charming companions." Darcey has to will herself against audibly gagging. Malfoy writes in silence, waiting for his partner to continue.

"In Greek mythology Gemini is represented by the twin brothers Castor and Pollux who were fraternal twins, born of the same mother, Leda, but having different fathers. Castor was the mortal son of Tyndareus, the king of Sparta, and Pollux the divine son of Zeus, who seduced Leda in the guise of a swan. They are said to have been born from an egg. In latin the twins are known as Gemini or Castores. When Castor was killed, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together and they were transformed into the constellation Gemini. In alternate literature the two figures are interpreted as being Apollo and Hercules." Darcey reads, pausing to thoughtfully absorb the legend.

"_Wasn't Hercules the bloak to kill the Lion_?" Draco asks, following her train of thought. His gray eyes softening, crinkling slightly in amusement as a triumphant smirk forms on his lips

"Yeah, the _muggle_ remember." Darcey coldly reminds him, hoping to tone down his arrogance.

Draco's smirk wavers momentarily but he maintains it, deciding to remain unaffected by Davis' observation. "_My twins still killed your lousy kitten_." Draco replies in an immensely self-satisfied tone.

Before she can stop herself Darcey is laughing along with him, both Slytherin's smiling together for the first time ever. _History has been made here._


	5. Chapter 5: Harmonia Nectere Passus

Darcey had always enjoyed the sport of Quidditch. Like most of her peers she found it to be an exciting, fast-paced, and dangerous sport, which made it all the more fun to watch.

Her father and elder brother Roger were die-hard Quidditch fans. Attending the World Cup was an annual tradition in the Davis household.

Darcey knew her way around on a broomstick, flying had come quite naturally to her, although she wasn't on her house team, since Slytherin was known for its all male team, being prejudice to female athletes.

So Darcey got her fix by playing the sport each summer in their backyard for fun, and that was honestly enough for her.

She had her fair share of fond memories of playing Quidditch with her siblings on those late summer evenings, when the fireflies would come out and the hot air from the day would finally cool down enough for them to play without getting drenched in sweat.

Today's match is Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Both sides of the stadium erupt in cheers as the players fly onto the field.

Darcey is mingled in with a crowd of fellow snakes; eating her no melt peppermint flavored ice cream she got from the concession stand.

Tracey and Daphne are standing beside Darcey, waving a large, long emerald banner with the words '_Blaise is ablaze! Hotter than fiendfyre!_' in bold, silvery font.

The sign takes two people to hold up, and Tracey agreed to help Daphne, only after incessant whining from her love struck friend.

Millicent Bullstrode is on the other side of Darcey, eating a no melt ice cream cone that the two girls purchased together before the match, hers being chocolate-vanilla swirl.

The game begins and Darcey watches excitedly as Slytherin goes in for the first goal, only to be blocked at last second by Gryffindor Keeper Ronald Weasley.

"_Boo!_" Darcey cries out animatedly along with her fellow Slytherins.

"_Beat him with a bludger!_" Vincent Crabbe, a round bellied, stalky boy who's the shorter of Malfoy's two cronies, bellows with his fist raised in the air.

Malfoy, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, stand in the bleacher below Darcey and her friends.

Darcey's eyes glance over at Draco as she notices he's being unnaturally quiet, having yet to shout out any insults to the opposing team. His thoughts seem to be on something else as he watches the game with a stiff, blank expression.

Half way into the game and Slytherin still hasn't scored any points past Weasley to Darcey's frustration. The Gryffindor keeper is on fire today, performing insanely well, the match would be much more fun to watch if Darcey wasn't rooting for the losing team. She's never seen Slytherin play this lousy. Normally they dominate the game.

Adrian Pucey, a clean-cut, seventh year boy with short, dark hair, and chaser of Slytherin passes the quaffle to Blaise Zabini who goes in for another attempted goal, only to be blocked once more by the Gryffindor keeper.

The red and gold side erupts in rowdy and obnoxious cheering as Weasley throws up his hands in a celebratory fashion, pumping his fists in the air. This cocky gesture causes the lions to go into a full-blown uproar, chanting now in unison '_Weasley is our King!_' and waving their banners wildly.

By now the Slytherin side is sulking, losing much of the enthusiasm and confidence displayed at the start of the game.

"Come on you lousy veela, quit dancing around and score already!" Goyle shouts out angrily. Like many of his peers, he too is growing frustrated with the outcome of the match.

Just then Darcey notices Malfoy leaving the company of his friends as he carefully snakes his way down the bleachers, heading back to the castle early.

Something about his behavior doesn't sit right with Darcey so she decides to see what the boy's up to. She sneaks away from the game, careful to stay far enough away that he doesn't catch her tailing him.

The clouds shift overhead, blocking out the sun and casting shade upon the grass. A strong gust of wind rolls by causing the trees of the Forbidden Forest to rustle loudly. Delicate, crunchy, dead leaves scurrying across the ground in front of her as she trudges up the hill. A chill trickles down her spine as the temperature drops. Darcey pulls up her hood, her dark, curly hair whipping at her cheek as the wind picks up speed.

Finally she makes it to the castle and out of the elements. She's sure her hair looks like a rat's nest as she runs her fingers through the knotted strands in an attempt to tame them. She can just make out the soft padding of Malfoy's footsteps in the deserted Entrance Hall and follows the sound, heading for the steps in the opposite direction of the dungeons.

Darcey's curiosity peaks as she's now even more eager to discover where Malfoy's running off to.

* * *

Draco enters the empty corridor on the seventh floor, pacing the length of the hallway as he closes his eyes and focuses his mind on the vanishing cabinet he desperately needs to mend. When he opens his eyes again a set of ornate double doors appears, the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

Draco glances behind him to be certain that no ones around before slipping into the room. He peers up at the mountains of lost and broken objects that have been collecting in the room for years. He snakes along the pathway, through the towers of rubbish until her finds the magical object he's searching for, a wooden, charcoal gray, cabinet with steel hinges.

A white dove sings from a cage nearby. Draco moves over to the bird, lifting up the cage door and offering his finger. The dove hops onto his hand and lets him guide it out of the cage and over to the wooden cabinet where Draco opens the door, placing the dove inside, before shutting the cabinet door.

He pulls out his wand, hidden in the pocket of his blazer and points it to the vanishing cabinet. "_Harmonia Nectere Passus" _Draco speaks the incantation aloud, giving a moment before he opens the cabinet door to check if the spell worked.

To his disappointment he failed once again as his stormy gray eyes look down upon the white dove, lying stiff and dead on the cabinet floor.

One of the towers of rubbish behind him suddenly shifts causing various objects to clank loudly against the floor as the structure collapses. Draco points his wand in the direction of the avalanche, casting '_Homenum Revelio'_, a spell used to reveal human presence.

A girl wearing dark jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt is thrown forward, landing in a heap on the floor in front of Draco's, her face hidden beneath a mane of dark, wavy hair.

"What are you doing here?" Draco demands, scanning over the spy in surprise. He was sure no one had been following him.

Sure enough a familiar face looks sheepishly up at him, her cheeks blotchy and scarlet. He looks down into the piercing, sapphire eyes of Darcey Davis.

"_Following you_." Davis answers in blunt honesty, pushing herself up from the floor and dusting off her jeans.

"Why were you following me?" Draco asks, narrowing his eyes angrily at the stupid, annoying girl.

"That there's a vanishing cabinet." Davis observes, ignoring Draco's question and stepping past him to get a closer look at the object. "Why are you trying to fix it?" Darcey wonders, raising her brow as she turns back to look at him.

"_None of your damn business_." Draco snaps angrily, pressing his wand to her throat.

Darcey's crystal blue eyes widen momentarily in surprise before narrowing into slits. "_Lower your wand Malfoy_." Davis growls, her tone dripping with venom.

Draco presses his wand harder against her, leaning in closer and towering a few inches above her. He looks down at her, his features hardening as cold hatred floods through him for the girl who dares to speak to him so boldly.

"I've warned you plenty of times, but my threats don't seem to be getting through to you." Draco hisses coldly, leaning in closer. He presses his mouth next to her ear to make certain she hears him clearly.

"_Perhaps you need to be punished_." Draco whispers, a wicked smirk forming on his lip. "_Cruc-" "Stupefy!" _Darcey cuts him off, having stealthily drawn her wand and aiming it at his stomach. Draco flies backwards, crashing into a pile of rubbish.

"_You filthy Death Eater!" _Darcey shrieks enraged that Malfoy was really going to use the torture curse on her. She storms swiftly over to him.

_"Expelliarmus!" _She easily disarms him as he works to free himself from the pile of debris. His wand soars through the air landing a few yards away and becoming lost amongst the chaos of the room.

"Stand up!" Darcey commands, feeling her body literally vibrating with rage.

Malfoy slowly gets to his feet, all while giving her the most intense look of loathing she's ever seen from him, but she's too upset to give it second thought. She's sure if she wasn't so furious she'd be cowering with the look he's giving her. He truly looks frightening.

"_Incarcerous_" Darcey casts another spell, this time thick ropes fly out of her wand and bind to Malfoy, snaking around him tightly.

"_You'll regret this_." Malfoy seethes.

"_Shut up_!" Darcey shouts, pressing her holly wand to Malfoy's lips. "_Or I'll make you_." She threatens icily.

Malfoy doesn't test if she's bluffing and keeps silent, his lips forming a tight, thin line and his arctic gray eyes glaring down at her.

Their eyes stays locked for a moment longer, as if each one is challenging the other to back down and look away first.

Even as Darcey reaches down to grope for his sleeve, she doesn't move her gaze from his, making clear that she's not afraid of him.

Darcey can feel him flinch as her fingertips brush against the bare skin of his wrist before she yanks up his sleeve exposing what she already guessed was there, but can now confirm it.

She peers down at the dark mark, the ebony skull and serpent clashing harshly against Draco's pale skin. For a long moment she can't seem to pull her eyes away from it, feeling sickened by the sight of it but also a deep, suppressed part of her itches to glide her fingers across it, a morbid curiosity. Before she realizes it her fingers brush over the cursed tattoo and the serpent slithers, responding to her touch. Malfoy's arm twitches beneath her hand and she finally pulls away from him, looking back up to meet his gaze and surprised to see a pair of wide, fearful gray eyes looking back at her, losing all traces of their previous coldness and fury.

Darcey pulls back down his leave, as if that will help him from feeling so exposed and vulnerable. She covers it back up, wishing she didn't expose it in the first place. At least then she only guess what he was, but now she is certain. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, and she has no idea where to go from here.

Darcey sighs, running her hand through her hair as she paces in front of him, wondering what her next move is, what's her plan?

"Why do you need the vanishing cabinet fixed? Does it have to do with this?" She asks, gesturing to his dark mark.

Draco doesn't move or say a word, his face now morphed into a cold, unreadable mask.

"_I'm not going to tell anyone_." Darcey continues, her voice much softer now as she looks over at him with a look of pity and guilt, guilt for exposing his secret this way, but at least now she knows for sure who he is. She can't imagine what he's possibly going through being mixed up with the Dark Lord so young, for Merlin sake he's only sixteen!

"_I promise_." She presses, noticing the look of distrust radiating from the boy, and she truly means it, she isn't going to tell his secret. It's no use though, it's clear Malfoy doesn't believe her, and why would he after he nearly tortured her, she should despise him, she should go running to Dumbledore right now. _But she's not going to go run to Dumbledore, she's not like her brother, she's not like Harry._

She thinks of a way to show him. Convince Draco that she's on his side, not Voldemorts side, but his side. As in, she doesn't want to see her classmate die therefore she isn't going to expose his secret.

There might come a time when Darcey needs a Death Eater on her side and hadn't she just decided this morning not to go making enemies with him?

No, she doesn't want him as her enemy. There are much greater enemies to be worried about. This isn't about them, this entire war is between Voldemort, Dumbledore and Harry. Draco's just a pawn who got thrown into the game, and perhaps Darcey will find herself forced to play the game too. After all she's Harry Potter's sister, as much as it scares her to be mixed up with him she can't hide from who she is forever. It's only a matter of time before this war catches up to her and she finds herself thrown into battle no matter how hard she tries to resist it, and maybe one day she will need an ally, somebody on her side. So she thinks, how can I show him I'm not the enemy here? How can we be allies?

Just then it hits her as she looks back behind her at the vanishing cabinet. For whatever reason it is important for Malfoy to fix it, so perhaps she can try to help him.

"As a peace offering." Darcey states, casting Malfoy one last meaningful look.

"_Harmonia Nectere Passus_" She attempts the advanced spell for herself, before realizing that they have no way to tell whether or not it worked.

"I'm going to untie you now and you're not going to murder me, okay?" Darcey smiles nervously, still unsure of where she stands with the boy who tried to torture her. Hopefully her peace offering worked, feeling she made a clever choice in choosing to _show _him rather than just _telling_ him that she's not his enemy.

Darcey performs the counter curse to her spell, the ropes catching fire and disintegrating into ashes, the black soot pooling at Draco's feet.

"Accio wand." Darcey states as Malfoys sleek, black wand comes zooming across the room. She reaches out to catch it, handing the wand back to its rightful owner.

"_Hawthorne, interesting wood. What's your core?_" Darcey ponders lightly, having a keen interest in wandlore.

"_Unicorn hair_." Malfoy mutters, rubbing his arm where the ropes once constricted him.

"Me too. " Darcey softly mumbles, rubbing the back of her neck, suddenly aware of how awkward things are between the two of them.

After a long moment Darcey speaks up again, refocusing on the task at hand. "I'll go to the library and do more research on that spell. We'll meet back here tomorrow and try to fix it together." "No questions asked." Darcey adds, forcing her best attempt at a friendly smile, but feeling as if she didn't quite nail it.

Malfoy nods curtly, staying silent as his gray eyes pierce through Darcey, as if attempting to read her.

"I'm going back to the common room, see you in the morning." Darcey dismisses herself, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

* * *

When she enters her dormitory she finds a letter waiting for her in the middle of her bed, the ivory envelope glowing in the darkness of the room. Darcey notices her dorm mates are all asleep and she faintly wonders what time it is and how long she spent in the Room or Requirement.

Casting a '_muffliato'_ as not to wake her slumbering roommates, she plops down on her bed and picks up the envelope, eagerly ripping it open.

She pulls out a letter, recognizing her father's scratchy, slanted writing. His letters always looked as though he was in a hurry and had quickly scribbled down the words, but Darcey knew that was just the way he wrote.

_Darcey,_

_So happy to hear of you joining the Slug Club! _

_That's how you're mother and I met back when we attended Hogwarts. _

_As you know, I was a Slytherin like you and Tracey, and your mum was a beautiful, bright Ravenclaw. _

_To this day, I doubt we would have ever courted if it weren't for us getting the opportunity to know each other through Slughorn's supper parties. _

_Anyway, I won't bore you any longer with the details. You asked to speak with me by fire, I'm sorry to say that won't possible. _

_The floo networks are under strict supervision of the Ministry and it's extremely difficult to get permission to communicate by fire these days. _

_They've even cracked down on the post, thoroughly inspecting every letter. _

_I'm certain due to these regulations my letter to you has probably been delayed and won't reach you until Saturday or Monday. _

_It seems for now we can only talk by post. You should write to your mother and Roger also, they both miss you dearly. _

_I know you're busy with your schoolwork. I hope to see all O and E's this year again! You're mum and I are so very proud of you, Darcey. _

_We love you very much and cannot wait for our girls to return home to us this Christmas. Look forward to seeing you soon, darling._

_Love, _

_Dad_

Darcey finds herself struggling to be upset with her father after reading his sweet letter. She has to remind herself that it's very possible her parents have lied to her for her entire life and she should be furious with them. Unfortunately it seems for now she won't be getting any explanation from them since it's too risky to ask her father through post. She'll just have to wait until she visits home for the holiday to talk with them about the prophecy.

Darcey slips the letter into the silk, black pocket of her trunk before moving to the ornate cherry wood wardrobe next to her bed and pulling out a pair of plaid, flannel PJ pants and a loose fitting t-shirt and crawling into bed.

The cool, crisp sheets feel refreshing against her skin and the heavy emerald quilt overtop provides Darcey with a pleasant feeling of security, like an infant being swaddled.

Staring up above her, she can faintly make out the water lines dancing across the ceiling from the eerie, green glow of the lake.

Darcey lets her body fall into a state of rest, welcoming the relief sleep brings her from her troubles, an eager escape from her reality.

She has a long weekend ahead of her...


	6. Chapter 6: Darcey Petunia Potter

Darcey rises earlier than usual, despite being in no hurry to start the day.

It's a Sunday so most of her dorm mates are still asleep as she makes her way to the washroom to shower and get dressed. She throws on a comfortable, navy, v-neck t-shirt that makes her appear even paler than usual. She slips on a pair of jeans before sitting on her bed and retrieving a pair of black, leather boots from under her cot. She pulls them up over her jeans and zips them.

As she heads out of the dormitory she grabs a light gray, knitted cardigan at last minute, aware of how chilly the castle can get in the Fall.

As she makes her way to the library she takes note of the dreary weather outside. The clear blue skies from yesterday are now covered in dark, stormy clouds hiding the sunrise and casting a dark shadow over the land. Specks of rain rap upon the windows as it begins to drizzle. The soft roar of thunder echoes in distance, foretelling that a storm is brewing.

On her was to the library she runs into her Head of House whom she has made an effort to shy away from since her duel with Malfoy, knowing Snape was quite angry with the pair.

"_Good morning Professor_." Darcey quietly greets, making a conscious effort to sound friendly and pleasant.

"_Morning, Miss Davis_." Snape drawls in low monotones.

"_May I ask as to where you're headed to this early in the day_?" Snape asks, stopping in front of her. His lightless black eyes glisten down at her as he eyes her curiously.

"_Library. Erm- sir_." Darcey clears her throat, still scratchy from sleep. "Still have loads of homework that isn't going to do itself." Darcey chuckles nervously.

Snape's eyes narrow suddenly in suspicion as he scans her form. "_It appears you won't be completing any homework. Seeing as you've forgotten your text books_." Snape observes coldly, watching as the Slyherin gropes the air where her satchel should be, letting out a high-pitched, nervous laugh.

"_Ha-ha!_ _Yes, it seems I'm missing my brain this morning. Lucky I ran into you sir!"_ Darcey beams up at her Head of House.

"_Enjoy your Sunday_." Snape replies slowly, still scanning her with a piercing, suspicious gaze, silently warning her not to do anything stupid. "_Don't work too hard._" He adds coolly, coming out more like a command than a suggestion.

"I'll try." Darcey supplies, still doing her best to cast him an innocent smile. The professor leaves her, disappearing around the corner and Darcey lets out the breath she had been holding in, mentally slapping herself for putting on such a lousy performance. It was clear Snape saw straight through her lie and now he's even wearier of her. That's just what she needs to draw more attention to herself. '_As if it isn't enough that the entire school thinks you're a Death Eater, let's get the teachers suspicious too_.' Darcey mentally scolds.

At that thought her mind turns to a certain Death Eater as she feels herself frowning now, remembering the encounter they had together yesterday.

She hopes Malfoy holds back on attempting to use an Unforgivables on her today, shuddering at how close she had come to experiencing the torture curse.

Anger seeps into her chest at the memory but she wills herself to push the hatred aside and try her best to be civil with the boy. '_It's not his fault'_ She convinces herself. '_What more do you expect from someone whose father's a Death Eater?' _and once again her anger is replaced by pity, for she truly does feel sorry for Draco.

After all, she understands what it's like to have no control over what others force upon you. She hadn't chose to be born to the Potter's, she hadn't chose to be left in the dark for her entire life and then ripped from her false reality and left to question her identity. She hadn't chose to be a part of this war and she just hoped that she could continue to stay out of it for as long as possible.

Darcey is suddenly aware of how selfish and whiney she sounds and is disgusted with herself.

She should be happy she isn't the _chosen one_, no, that's _Harry_.

She should be happy she has a _family_, wasn't her brother an orphan or something? No, he didn't live in an orphanage did he? That's right, Darcey remembers, he lived with _muggles_. She frowns at the thought as she can't imagine being forced to live with _muggles_, no matter how fascinating she found their inventions to be.

She should be happy she has a brother, a _blood brother_ and she knows who her real family is. She's wondered who she was her entire life and now she finally has answers.

She should be happy but no, here she was acting like a whiny spoilt brat. '_Poor me, woe is me- Rubbish! Poor Harry! He's the ones who has it rough, not me!'_ What did she have going on in her life that was so bad? Nothing! Darcey's suddenly mortified by her actions and the way she handled being told she was a Potter. She had had a fit, let her fear of the Dark Lord over power her logic, and she had ran away like a selfish, spoilt, coward. _What was wrong with her?_ _When had she become like this? Like this she was no better than Parkinson._

Darcey enters the deserted library apart from a trio of Ravenclaws and two Hufflepuffs. As she peers down the isle of rows upon rows of infinite books, she realizes she doesn't have the slightest idea of where to begin. She pushes aside her self-loathing and focuses on the task at hand, finding out how she can help fix the vanishing cabinet.

As she passes the first isle something shiny catches her eye, a trophy case. Something inside her, an urge of sorts, guides her over to the glass cupboard. She peers inside and catches a familiar surname etched in gold, '_James Potter - Gryffindor Seeker - 1970' _beneath a golden snitch, her birth father's name.

With renewed direction she wonders over to the Hogwarts yearbooks, in search of more information about her father. _What did he look like? Was her birth mother in here too?_

Darcey finds the 1970-1971 yearbook and flips through the pages until she comes across the Gryffindor graduating class but doesn't find her father's name there so she checks the next year and the next year until she finds him in the 1977-1978 graduating class. '_That meant James Potter was a seeker in his first year! Impressive!_' Darcey thinks to herself in awe. '_Hadn't Harry been a Seeker in his first year as well?' Yes, she recalls hearing of that…_

Turning back to the yearbook, she looks upon the smiling, black and white photos of the graduating classmen waving cheerfully at her.

She finds the name she's looking for, printed beneath the photo of a handsome, dark haired boy with wavy, tousled locks and a boyish grin plastered to his face. He's wearing round spectacles like Harry's; behind them his eyes seem to glisten mischievously back at her. He's waving happily and she finds herself smiling wanting to wave back too. A warm, giddy feeling radiates from her heart to her chest, the feeling of happiness. The happy feeling she gets when she's around her family, when they all come together for holidays and her parents aren't working.

Darcey notices the resemblance she bears to her father is uncanny and this seems to confirm for her who she truly is, who she belongs to. '_I'm the daughter of James Potter.' _She's sure of it now and instead of feeling sorry for herself and being ashamed of her family, she finds her emotions morphing into fierce pride. '_This is who I am_.' She mentally declares.

Darcey catches a familiar face in the row above her father, the face of her birth mother that she remembers clearly from Dumbledore's memory.

The beautiful witch with long, silky, red hair and bright emerald eyes, and a warm, loving smile waves back up at her from the page. Except here her hair is a light gray and her eyes seem to sparkle except they're now dulled to a medium charcoal, but Darcey is still sure that the black and white photo is that of her birth mother. Beneath the picture reads the name_, Lily Evans_.

Darcey loses track of time scanning through the yearbook. She discovers more about her birth parents, like that Lily belonged to the Slug Club and James seemed to be always pictured with his friends, Remus Lupin, her old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Sirius Black, Harry's deceased uncle who escaped from Azkaban, and a name she didn't recognize as Peter Pettigrew.

Lily seemed to be a lot like Darcey, top of her class and studious, where as James reminded her of Harry and seemed like the type to attract trouble. Darcey shared her mother's oval face and button nose and had her father's almond shaped eyes and dark, wavy hair, except his was neater. Harry had green eyes like their mother if she recalled correctly, but besides that, looked identical to their father. In fact Darcey was sure they could pass as twins.

Glancing at the clock she realizes it's nearly noon, she's spent the entire morning looking through yearbooks and completely forgot about Malfoy and the vanishing cabinet. Deciding it's too late to research she heads for the Room of Requirement, hoping the spell she cast yesterday worked and it's now repaired, or else Malfoy's going to give her hell for dropping the ball.

* * *

Harry laid on his bed in the Gryffindor dormitories clutching the Marauders Map and following with his eyes two tiny black sets of footprints. Next to the feet are the names, _Draco Lucius Malfoy_ and _Darcey Petunia Potter_, each at different ends of the castle. Malfoy appears to be in the dungeons and Darcey is currently in the library.

Harry was surprised he had failed to notice another student with his last name before now, lost among the hundreds of names floating across the map of Hogwarts. Yet now his twin stands out clearly, the magical map revealing the name given to her at birth, the true name of his sister, Darcey Petunia Potter. It seemed she was rightly named after his Aunt, they were a lot alike, both unpleasant and foul, and they both shared the same cold, piercing, blue eyes.

Harry struggled to come to grips with the fact that he had a sibling, but now he understood why Dumbledore had wanted to keep him in the dark for so long. '_She's a real prat_.'

Harry glares down at the moving black footprints. She had wanted nothing to do with him, practically disowning him. She didn't want to accept that she was related to Harry, as if it was something to be ashamed of.

Her behavior that night had revealed her true colors, and although they were blood, Harry and Darcey shared nothing in common. Being brought up by the pureblood Davis family had really turned his sister rotten, and from what Harry could tell she was just like the rest of her housemates, a stereotypical Slytherin, cowardly, selfish and self-preserving.

Although she had made it crystal clear she wanted nothing to do with Harry, he still felt drawn to her, interested in her. A part of him longed to get to know his sister, to sit down and talk with her, share a laugh together like Ron and his siblings. He wanted to experience what it was like to have a family and had at first been happy to hear that he had a twin. So as much as he hated to admit it, wounding his pride, it had hurt him a lot when she so openly rejected him.

Still, he felt protective over her, knowing she was the only living relative he had left, he wanted to keep her alive, even if she wasn't what he had expected her to be. She was still his sister, as much as he disliked her, and it wasn't her fault she had been raised by the Davis'.

Surely she wasn't born so foul, she had to have been raised like that. If their parents were still alive, he was certain she'd be an entirely different girl, and maybe that part of her was still buried deep inside her somewhere.

Maybe one day they could be close and act like a real family, but for now Harry had to accept her for what she was and follow Dumbledore's advice to stay away from her.

Dumbledore had shown Harry the prophecy and it foretold the twins as being enemies. After Darcey had stormed out of the Headmasters office Dumbledore had an important conversation with Harry.

He warned him to not to trust her with any information regarding Voldemort, not to tell her anything of Dumbledore's private lessons with him, and if he could manage to just stay away from her completely. He had also told Harry that Darcey didn't know the entire prophecy. Dumbledore only showed her half of it, knowing that revealing the part about her would only reinforce her destiny, at least this way she didn't know and wouldn't be swayed.

If she turned down a dark path it would be entirely her own choice and not because she had been told that's what she was going to do from the beginning.

Harry understood this and he would follow Dumbledore's orders to stay away from his sister, but that didn't mean he couldn't still look out for her.

So as Harry was spying on Malfoy since their encounter on the train, he was convinced Malfoy was a Death Eater, he had found his sisters name near Malfoy's on the map more and more often and noticed their names disappear and reappear off the map twice since yesterday.

He had watched last night, after the Quidditch match when he went to bed, first Darcey's, then Draco's name appear out of thin air on the map. Their names had appeared on the seventh floor and right now he watched as Malfoy walked from the dungeons to said floor only to disappear again.

Darcey's footsteps were currently leaving the library, watching as they take the same path as Malfoy's, vanishing off the map at the very same spot.

_So what was his sister doing with Malfoy? _Harry felt the bile rise up into his throat at the thought of them snogging. He knew perfectly well _where_ they kept disappearing to, the Room of Requirement. He had discovered the hidden room last year when he founded Dumbledore's Army. So, his sister and Draco were either dating and sneaking off to the Room of Requirement to snog, _or _the rumors spreading around school were true, Darcey was a Death Eater and Harry knew that Malfoy had to be one too.

_So what were two Death Eaters doing together sneaking off to the Room of Requirement?_ Harry vowed to find out what Malfoy was up to and why Darcey was involved.

First, Harry needed to run his theory by Hermione. Maybe she could help him make sense of it, but he was dreading telling his friends about Darcey for Harry was embarrassed with his twin.

'_Hey Hermione, Ron, I have a sister, she's a Death Eater and in Slytherin. She might be evil and she might be dating Malfoy and I don't know which news is worse. Oh, forgot to mention she hates me and there's this prophecy that says we're sworn enemies_. _How's that for a dysfunctional family?_' Harry mentally muses, although it's far from funny. He could practically see their shocked and angry expressions in his head and could hear them bombarding him with questions.

'_Right. This should go over well.'_ He mentally groaned.

* * *

Darcey enters the Room of Requirement, knowing she's tardy. Although they hadn't confirmed a set time she had told Malfoy tomorrow _morning _and it was now past noon. She hoped he hadn't been waiting too long.

"_Sorry I'm late, slept in._" Darcey offers casually, not wanting to tell him that she got distracted in the library. No, it might spawn too many questions that she'd just have to lie through; so lying straight off the bat was much easier.

"_I didn't expect you to come_." Malfoy admits, his cold mask in place hiding any emotions, making it difficult to tell what the boy's thinking.

Darcey doesn't respond, instead walking past him to grab a set of bronze measuring scales from a nearby pile of rubbish. She uses transformation to turn them into a cardinal, the first bird that comes to mind.

"I have a theory." Darcey begins, walking over to Malfoy and placing the scarlet bird inside the vanishing cabinet. "I don't know for sure that it'll work but it's worth a shot." Darcey continues, shutting the cabinet door.

"It came to me yesterday when I discovered that our wands share the same core." Darcey explains. "I read somewhere that when casting a dual spell, the outcome is more likely to be favorable if the wands of the two wizards share the same core." "Basically, the more compatible the wands are, the more powerful the magic is. See where I'm going with this?" Darcey asks, raising a brow. Draco seems to be following. Darcey can see his mind churning behind his wintery eyes, he's thinking.

"_Yes, you're saying we cast the spell together?_" Draco replies slowly, thinking he's missing something. "That's you're plan?" He criticizes, his tone skeptical.

"Yes and I think it will work. So let's just try it and go from there." Darcey snaps irritably, frustrated with herself for slacking off in the library and not coming up with something better, Draco's right to be skeptical. She just hopes it will work because it's all she's got to go on for now.

"On the count of three. One, two, three-" Darcey begins.

"_Harmonia Nectere Passus_" The Slytherins chant together, pointing their wands at the vanishing cabinet.

Draco steps forward first, reaching for the door. He pulls it open and to both of the students surprise the cardinal has vanished from the cabinet.

"_It worked_." Draco says, his tone giving away his shocked disbelief.

"_It worked_." Darcey agrees, turning to him and casting him an excited smile.

Draco grins back at her, genuinely giddy and Darcey hasn't seen him this happy in a very long time.

It reminds her of her old classmate, the Draco Malfoy she had seen before around school, _strutting the halls with his friends, lounging in the common room telling funny jokes and coming up with witty insults, flying on his broomstick, going after the golden snitch and catching it, winning the game for Slytherin._ For a moment Malfoy looks like his old self, but as quickly as it comes, it goes. Once again replaced by a cool, emotionless mask.

"Good luck with the cabinet." Darcey awkwardly offers after a long, heavy silence hangs between them. She's not sure what else to say since she has no idea why they needed to fix it to begin with. She promised not to ask any questions and she doesn't, keeping true to her word.

"_I'll see you around then_." Darcey awkwardly adds, stowing away her wand in the pocket of her cardigan.

Malfoy nods curtly back at her and it's clear he's not going to thank her or bid her any kind of farewell, so Darcey leaves, accepting his cold behavior for what it is and not over thinking it. '_That's just how he is. Malfoy will always be a prick_.' And quite honestly Darcey is happy to be done with him. Starting now she vows to stay away from him, she succeeded in what she had set out to do and they are now on neutral ground. That's the end of it. No more war, at least not between the two of them. They made their peace.

_Maybe one day she can make her peace with Harry. _


	7. Chapter 7: Resisting Possession

It was the last Friday of September and Darcey found herself hibernating indoors as it seemed to rain nearly every single day.

Not that she minded the peculiar weather. Darcey found the low roaring of the thunder and rhythmic pattering of raindrops upon the windowpanes to be quite comforting.

Ironically the dungeons were the only part of the castle where it was impossible to see or hear the weather, being it underground.

Right now Darcey had a free period and used it wisely. Free period was a time to keep up with the vast amount of homework that came with being a N.E.W.T student. The lessons had become more demanding and for the first time ever she was struggling to remain caught up on her schoolwork.

She needed to obtain an _Outstanding_ in Charms, Transfiguration and History of Magic in order to even be considered for an internship with the famous Wand Maker, Garrick Ollivander after she graduated Hogwarts.

Darcey found Charms and Transfiguration to come naturally to her, but had struggled to get her _Exceeds Expectations_ in History of Magic last year.

The class was horribly boring and most of the tests consisted of memorizing dates of past goblin wars, something she took zero interest upon.

Darcey now sat in the middle of her cot, lost in a sea of textbooks and parchment. Her area of the dorm was currently a chaotic, disorganized mess, looking as if a herd of centaurs had passed through the room.

Unlike most of her peers, Darcey's favorite place to study was inside her dormitory. It was the only place she could almost always be alone, and she valued her solitude, especially when her brain was working in overdrive. She performed best by herself.

Suddenly, a distraction comes in the form of Parkinson barging into the dormitory.

"_That's a load of old bollocks!_" The wide nosed, amber eyed girl shrieks, plopping herself down violently upon her bed with Tracey and Daphne at her heel. They all gather around the distressed Slytherin.

"_It's completely unfair!_ _That wicked old hag has always had it out for him!"_ Pansy cries, grabbing her pillow and burying her face in it. She lets out an enraged snarl.

"It'll be okay, you can always come to Hogsmede with _us_" Daphne offers quietly, patting Pansy's back in a consoling but awkward gesture.

_"I'm not going to be a third wheel! Merlin Daphne! Could you be anymore thick?"_ Pansy sneered casting the blond a look of loathing for even insisting such a thing.

Darcey ignores the lot, not taking her eyes off her schoolwork. She nibbles on the quill between her lips, unable to take in the words she's reading. Her dorm mates are talking too loud for her to concentrate.

"What did he get detention for anyway?" Tracy speaks up curiously.

Pansy lifts her face from her pillow with a hard look on her features. Something seems off about her, troubled.

"He hasn't completed a single class assignment all _month_." Pansy mutters, looking down at the pillow she's now hugging against her.

"_I'm worried about him_." She whispers, so quietly Darcey almost thought she'd imagined it.

"He's been acting strange lately. Always disappearing. Running off. Hardly speaking to me. I don't even know where we stand anymore. He's pushing me away and I don't know what I've done to upset him…" Pansy's jaw trembles as she holds back her sobs, refusing to cry in front of her friends. Darcey feels her mouth agape at the uncharacteristic vulnerability radiating from the bully. She looks so broken and fragile, Darcey's never once seen Pansy appear so _human_.

Parkinson's eyes suddenly shift to Darcey's as they catch each other. "_What are you staring at?"_ Pansy snaps moodily.

Darcey stays silent, watching as the girl abruptly gets up and storms across the room into the adjacent wash room, slamming the door forcefully behind her and causing a nearby portrait to fall off the wall. Daphne moves to grab it.

The portrait is that of a naked woman with long, wavy hair covering her breasts standing in a lush garden paradise. A long snake coils itself up and around her curvy figure, its chin resting near the nape of her neck. Darcey always found the painting to be quite beautiful.

As Daphne carefully hangs the picture back up, the woman in the painting clutches the apple tree behind her to keep from toppling over, while cursing at the girls. Darcey catches something like, '_Disrespectful brats_.' And ' _No appreciation for the arts_.'

"_Oi! Shut it! I set you right didn't I? Could have left you down there!_" Daphne shouts back at the painted woman.

"You think she's alright in there?" The blond whispers, coming closer to her friends and silently pointing to the bathroom door.

"My guess is she's sobbing." Darcey states bluntly, not bothering to keep her voice down, not caring if Parkinson hears her or not.

"_Shh! Don't be cruel."_ Daphne scolds. "She seemed really distraught. Should I go check on her?" Daphne wonders, turning her attention to Tracey now, upset with Darcey's lack of compassion.

"I would let her sort it out for herself. She might hex us." Tracey frowns.

"Who was she on about anyway?" Darcey can't help but wonder aloud, having a hunch who, but wanting to confirm it.

"_Draco Malfoy of course, didn't you know they were courting?_" Tracey replies, still keeping her tone hushed. She comes to sit next to her sister now, eager to fill her in on the juicy gossip.

"No, hadn't noticed." Darcey replies coolly, feigning disinterest and looking back down at her textbook. A pang of jealousy strikes her suddenly and she has to hide the new possessive emotion from surfacing in her tone. The jealousy she feels unnerves her, she doesn't understand it therefore she doesn't like it. '_Since when do I care whom Malfoy snogs?_' Darcey wonders incredibly, shocked by what she's feeling. _'I hardly know him.'_

"_Well it seems they may no longer be an item, seeing as Draco's giving her the cold shoulder and all. Maybe he's afraid to break things off with her and is resorting to avoidance_." Tracey theorizes, leaning in closer to her sister. "_Perhaps he's found a new play thing_." Tracey winks.

Darcey narrows her eyes at her sibling, not sure what she's getting at but deciding already that she doesn't like the knowing look she's giving her.

After Darcey doesn't respond, still giving her sister a dumb struck, confused look. Tracey elaborates. "_He's a handsome lad. Any girl would be happy to hear he's single_."

"You fancy him?" Darcey asks bewildered.

"Of course, don't you?" Tracey raises a slender brow.

"NO! WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME SOMETHING SO RIDICULOUS?" Darcey blurts out, masking her nervous unease with anger.

"_A lot of girls fancy him_." Tracey replies coolly with a light shrug, unfazed by her sister's outburst as she glances down at her fingernails, picking at her cuticles.

"_So, you have eyes just for Teddy then, eh?"_ Tracey muses with a smirk, bringing up her sisters childhood crush.

"_No, I don't fancy him either!"_ Darcey grumbles, collecting her things and shoving them haphazardly into her satchel.

"Where are you going?" Tracey asks, surprised by her sisters sudden movement.

"_To the library, to be alone_." Darcey snaps. No longer in the mood to gossip with her sister, feeling irritated at herself, confused and frustrated with her emotions. For some odd reason hearing that Draco and Pansy are an item really dampened the Slytherin's mood.

* * *

"_I'm telling you Hermione, they're both Death Eaters_." Harry insists for the hundredth time. To his dismay, his two friends don't seem nearly as convinced.

The trio is gathered at a secluded table in the library, hunched over and talking in hushed tones. Hermione looks up from her Charms essay, casting Harry a concerned glance. She's beginning to worry about him. He's becoming obsessed with this ridiculous theory that Draco Malfoy and Darcey Davis are Death Eaters.

It's been three weeks since Harry told Hermione and Ron of his sister. Ron had been bewildered, trying to recall a mental image of whom this Davis witch was, but couldn't ever recall seeing her. Although Ron had said the name sounded familiar. Hermione on the other hand had known exactly who Darcey Davis was and this hadn't surprised Harry at all, seeing as she had a keen talent for observation. Picking up what others overlooked. Of course she'd recall his sister.

"_I don't know, Harry_." Hermione frowned over at him from across the table, her tone taking on a pleading quality.

"_Maybe Malfoy_, _but even that is highly unlikely. He's far too young. As for Darcey, she doesn't strike me as evil. She loaned me a quill once in third year..._" Hermione reasons.

"_So, she lends you a quill three years ago and that makes her trustworthy?"_ Harry asks haughtily.

"_Not trustworthy exactly_." Hermione defends. "_Just, I don't think she's like them_." Hermione explains softly, keeping her voice low despite the '_Muffliato_' Harry has placed around their table. It comes as habit for the trio to whisper, always discussing Voldemort.

"_Trust me Hermione, she's just like them. You should have seen the way she acted_-" Harry's cut short by the topic of their conversation entering the library, her eyes finding her brothers gaze as she walks over towards them.

Davis stops in front of their table, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing around the room nervously before locking her gaze back on Harry's. Her blue eyes look softly down upon him as she offers a sheepish smile and an awkward, '_Hey_."

Harry's eyes can't help but widen in surprise, he has no idea what she's doing here. Hadn't she made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with him?

"_Hey_." Harry parrots back after a moment, closing his half opened mouth and recollecting himself, knowing he probably looks like an idiot.

Darcey chances a look at Hermione and Ron, looking uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Although Hermione has an indifferent face and appears friendly, Ron has his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Slytherin, his mouth forming a hard, thin line and his muscles in his neck stiffening.

"_Can I talk with you?"_ She asks quietly, looking back at Harry, not liking the way the Weasley boy is glaring at her.

"_Sure_." Harry replies thoroughly confused with her presence. He tries to will himself to hate her but he can't, not when she's acting so mouse-like and timid. She's nothing now like the arrogant, spoilt witch he met on the first night.

Darcey pulls a nearby chair over to their table, setting her satchel down against her leg; she fumbles with her fingers looking for the right words to say. The trio watches her intently.

"I wanted to apologize for the way I acted when-" Darcey stops; side glancing at Granger and Weasley, unsure of whether or not they know their secret. "_When I last saw you._" She chooses her words wisely, turning back to meet her brothers piercing emerald eyes behind a pair of round spectacles.

"They know who you are." Harry replies, noticing her apprehension.

"Right." Darcey mumbles, feeling slightly foolish. Of course he would tell his friends, they're inseparable.

"Well I'm sorry. I acted like a prat. It's not true what I said. _I mean_-" Darcey pauses, unsure of how she wants to go about this. "_I didn't mean it when I said I wanted nothing to do with you. You're my brother… I was just afraid, you know? And in shock I suppose. It was a lot to take in all at once_." Darcey sighs, running her fingers through her hair and diverting her gaze to the windowpane, watching as an eerie mist presses against the glass.

"I don't want to get involved in this war if I can help it, but that doesn't mean I want nothing to do with _you_. I'd like to get to know you, Harry. I want to know more about our family. I found this yearbook with photos of our parents. It really hit me then, who I am. Although I have a family, there's always room for more. I want to get to know this part of myself. I know we have years of catching up to do and it's awkward, but maybe we can take baby steps. That's what they'd want right? For us to be friends…" Darcey manages a small, sincere smile, looking hopefully at her brother. Hoping he will accept her apology.

Harry looks over at his friends and Darcey follows his gaze hesitantly. Granger's eyes are a bit watery and she's smiling warmly at Harry. Ron looks much less affected, but still not as cold as before. He looks uneasy, not sure what to make of the situation.

"Thanks for the apology, it means a lot..." Harry pauses, casting his twin a pained expression.

"_I just think it might be too late. Maybe we're too different…"_ Harry explains slowly, as if that will help ease the blow.

_'So he's rejecting me?_' Darcey realizes suddenly with a pang of anger knotting in her chest. She really hadn't anticipated this sort of reaction from Harry.

"_We're too different…?"_ Darcey parrots back, still taking in the meaning of his words.

"_I understand that you have a family and you don't want to get involved in the war, but I'm the Chosen One. I have to focus on defeating Voldemort, and I have a family too, my friends **are** my family_." Harry explains, looking to Ron and Hermione with a meaningful look.

"_They're risking their lives for me every second they're with me, and although I hate knowing that I'm putting them in danger, they've made the choice to stand by me_." Harry states proudly, not with arrogant pride, but with pure, loving admiration.

"_After this is over with, we can try to get to know each other. I'll tell you everything I know about our mum and dad. I would love that, but for now… I think it's best if we continue on with our lives, do what we each have to do in order to get through this."_ Harry says.

"_Right_." Darcey deadpans, feeling an emptiness settling over her. Putting her cold mask in place, she closes off her heart. "_See you around, Potter_." She says icily, abruptly standing from her seat and violently snatching up her satchel. She flees from the library, not sure of where she's headed to next. The emotions flood her now that she's out of her brother's sight and alone. She feels the tears stinging at her eyes, begging for release. She locks her jaw in place, focusing ahead of her. '_Don't cry, don't cry, don't you **dare** cry._' She mentally scolds as the tears begin sliding down her cheeks against her will. She darts into the nearest bathroom, knowing she can't risk anyone seeing her like this. She'd be mortified. Slytherin's don't cry, at least not in public.

She throws her bag on the tiled floor, falling to the ground next to it. She leans her head against the sink. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breathe in order to steady herself. She allows the last of the tears to fall before swatting them away. She doesn't sob, just allows herself the release and that's enough, she begins to feel better just letting herself cry.

"He-he what have we got here? A slimy snake sobbing on the floor like some creature of filth." A mocking female voice coos, and for and moment she thinks it's Parkinson, but instead peers up at a gray, misty phantom hovering above her. 'Of course I would pick _this_ bathroom.' Darcey mentally groans.

"_What's it like being dead? Specifically, dying in a pool of your own piss_." Darcey seethes, in no mood to be tested.

The ghost of Moaning Myrtle glares daggers upon her, before rushing forward and soaring straight through the Slytherin girls body, causing an unpleasant jolt in Darcey's stomach similar to being knocked off a broomstick.

"_You Slytherin's are foul, rotten rodents! You belong in the sewers with the rats!_" Moaning Myrtle shrieks, floating back to her place above the toilet stall she haunts.

"Go to hell!" Darcey counters angrily, drawing her wand.

"_Plan on hexing a ghost, Davis?_" A familiar male voice chides, stepping out from the farthest toilet stall, Darcey's met with a head of sleek white-blond hair. "_I'd pay a few galleons to see how you'd manage that." _Draco sneers, amusement tugging at his tone as his pale, chapped lips morph into an arrogant smirk.

"_Malfoy? What are you doing in here?_" Darcey demands, rising to her feet to greet the possible pervert hiding out in the girl's lavatory.

"_Waiting for an unsuspecting girl to swing by, seems you will do_." Draco's face darkens, the smirk slipping from his lips and all amusement vanishing from his stormy gray eyes. Before Darcey can react his wand is pointed directly at her chest.

"_Imperio_" Draco hisses.

A pleasant, tingling sensation like that of a thousand goose bumps, settles over Darcey. She feels hot and flushed, but good. _It feels really, really good_, like a soft caress snaking its way over her skin. Her mind turns to mush, as all her worries and fears vanish. Nothing troubles her anymore. She feels suddenly calm and content.

Darcey stares blankly at the handsome boy in front of her. Her eyes glassy, as if she's intoxicated, and she _is_. The beautiful wintry gray of Draco's irises intoxicate her as he moves closer to her, eyeing her for a change in her behavior, some indication that the Unforgivable spell had been successfully cast.

Darcey grins up at him. He stands a few inches above her. Lacking hesitation she extends her hand, brushing lightly against Draco's cheek, still grinning. "_Soft, smooth."_ She mutters breathlessly. "_You have good skin._" Darcey decides.

Malfoy eyes her as if she's gone mad, but a satisfied smirk surfaces on his lips, pleased that the spell was indeed successful. He was worried it might not work properly on her. Snape had said that it was possible to resist the effects of the spell. Darcey seemed like a girl capable of resisting him.

"_Darcey, I need you to do for me a favor."_ Draco begins smoothly, laying his hand over the small, feminine hand still clutching his cheek and gently bringing it back down to the girl's side, where it hangs loosely.

"_Anything, Draco_." The girl submits breathlessly, her eyes peering up at him with eagerness, fully ready to do his bidding.

Something twitches in Draco's abdomen at the lusty quality of her words, although not intended to sound that way, Darcey's tone is so soft and airy that it comes out sounding like a plea. Begging him to do whatever he wants with her. It churns something within Draco that he has to push aside, focusing on the mission instead of the effect Darcey's words have upon him.

"I want you to take this package, do not open it." Draco instructs pulling out a brown paper parcel from his dark, leather bag and placing it in her outstretched, eager hands.

"Go to Hogsmede with your friends, act normally. Go to the Three Broomsticks and order a drink. Go to the loo and wait, wait for however long it takes for another student to come into the bathroom. Make sure the girl is alone. Use the Imperius curse on the girl and order her to give this package to Professor Dumbledore. The girl cannot be a Slytherin and cannot be Granger or Weasley. Do this for me. Come find me when you've done this. I'll meet you here in this bathroom after my detention. If I'm not here, wait for me to come to you." Draco instructs clearly, taking care to be precise.

Darcey nods her head up and down obediently, her large, sapphire orbs misty and clouded.

"_Good girl_." Draco whispers, stroking her cheek gently, she leans into his touch letting a contented sigh escape her lips. "_Anything for you, Draco_." Darcey recites robotically.

* * *

The wind whips violently, lashing out at the students as they descend the cobblestone path from Hogwarts to the tiny village of Hogsmede. Darcey pulls the gray knitted beret she's wearing down over her ears and shoves her freezing cold hands into the pockets of her navy, wool pea coat. Blaise Zabini wraps his arm around his date Daphne Greengrass, pulling her closer to him for warmth. Tracy hides her face in an emerald and silver striped scarf, protecting her raw, chapped skin from the wind. The four Slytherin's dart into the first cottage they come by, a small, rustic tavern with a swaying, wooden sign out front reading '_The Three Broomsticks_.'

Darcey is the last one to enter, politely holding the door open for her friends while eyeing a wooden cart beside the door, pushed by a hunchbacked hag with waist length, frizzy gray hair and a large green boil on her nose. "Amulet my pretty? Protection from creatures of the night." The old woman steps closer, clutching Darcey by her shoulder and leading her away from the door and over towards the booth. Darcey looks blankly upon the leather necklaces with a raw, maroon stone the color of dried blood. The necklaces hold a mysterious quality about them and Darcey find them intriguing.

"I'd love one." Darcey finally responds, beaming at the hag and rummaging in her pea coat for a small sack of gold coins. Darcey offers the entire bag to the hag who eyes it greedily, exposing a crooked, rotten smile. "Wise choice indeed, you're a pretty, young lass and we must protect that smooth neck of yours from werewolves. Wouldn't want one to take a bite out of you!" The hag cackles, laughing wickedly but Darcey doesn't seem the slightest bit affected, still smiling sweetly and waiting patiently for the hag to return her sack coins.

The hag takes two galleons before handing the bag back to teenager. "Thank you very much." Darcey beams, slipping the amulet over her head and stuffing it beneath her many layers of shirts, the garnet amulet cool against her skin.

Darcey decides she's thirsty and heads into the tavern for a drink with her schoolmates. When she crosses the threshold she's bombarded with a blast of hot air, radiating off the three fireplaces lit inside the room. She finds an empty chair at the bar, slipping in next to Tracey and a blond, Hufflepuff boy named Zacharias Smith who casts her a funny glance as she sits next to him.

"Hello." Darcey greets the boy with a friendly smile. "Horrid weather we're having today. It's awfully foul." Darcey states in a light, conversational tone, before catching the Bar Maids attention and ordering a butterbeer.

"Yeah, the wind's a killer today." The blond boy agrees, his tone warm but his eyes still narrowed slightly on the Slytherin in suspicion. Darcey wonders if this is the first time he's ever had a girl from her house speak to him without flinging insults. Darcey decides then that her behavior is indeed a bit odd, and she has the overwhelming urge to appear ordinary, so she decides not to talk anymore. Silently sipping her butterbeer, she peers around the tavern, taking interest in random people and objects, not questioning as to why she's in such a pleasant mood.

She's staring a the Hippogriff head hung above the fireplace to her right when she realizes she has to use the bathroom and quietly slips away from her friends unnoticed as they're gripped by whatever conversation they're having. Darcey hadn't been paying attention to what they were saying, zoning off into her own world.

After using the loo she moves to the sink and washes her hands, glancing up at her reflection, she takes in how dull and faded her blue eyes look. They remind her of the pale, misty eyes of the blind, muggle beggar she saw in London last summer. Her own eyes holding the same clouded quality.

Suddenly the wooden door to the bathroom swings open and Darcey's eyes lock in the mirror with a pair of brown ones. The girl, who Darcey faintly recognizes as Gryffindor chaser and seventh year Katie Bell, darts into the first toilet stall to relieve herself.

Darcey moves to the corner of the bathroom, her hand silently drawing her wand from her pocket, she waits patiently for a few moments, staring at the closed stall door.

After what feels like a very slow minute, Katie Bell emerges with the flush of the toilet echoing through the small chamber. Her almond, brown eyes widen in surprise at the wand pointed directly at her chest, and before the Gryffindor can reach for her wand the words are slipping from the Slytherin's lips. "_Imperio_." Darcey hisses.

Katie Bell's honey brown eyes now appear murky, like the dark water of the Black Lake. The hand reaching for her coat pocket dangles limp at her side, having abandoned its previous mission.

"I need you to do me a favor, Katie." Darcey smiles wickedly, stepping forward and out from the shadows. "I need you to take this parcel directly to Albus Dumbledore. Do not do anything else. Head straight back to the castle and find the Headmaster." Darcey instructs, only half aware she's cursing the girl. The whole encounter feels surreal as if she's stepped outside of her body and is watching the show with indifference, not recognizing that it's herself whom she's watching.

"_Go._ _Now_." Darcey commands, shoving the brown, paper package into the girl's outstretched arms. The brunette nods eagerly before leaving the chamber. Darcey decides she's had enough of Hogsmede for today and decides to head back to the castles, having an overwhelming desire to seek out Draco Malfoy. She doesn't question it, as she succumbs to her instincts, letting the warm, euphoric sensation coursing through her body guide her to the Death Eater.

As she ascends the cobblestone pathway, a piercing scream jolts Darcey, causing her to sprint around the bend towards the source of the cry.

Katie Bell is hovered in the air, limbs outstretched and her long, dark hair whipping around her. Her ebony eyes are huge and her mouths hung open as she screams bloody murder. The sight is supernatural.

Darcey fights the pleasant sensation urging her to calm down, to relax, but as she stares up at the possessed girl she's broken from her spell, forcing the pleasant sensation aside, no longer succumbing to the pleasure.

Everything hits her at once, as if she's submerged in freezing cold water. The wind whips at her, she's aware of the brutal weather around her, the sleet piercing through the air and stinging against her skin. She's awakened, recalling her last memory of her encounter with Malfoy in the bathroom, and then of her reflection in the tavern lavatory mirror. Her eyes, glassy and clouded like the crystal balls in her Divination class. Darcey is aware of being under the Imperius curse, but the memory is foggy. She remembers those pale, blue eyes staring back at her in the mirror, and then cursing Katie Bell and giving her something, but she has no idea what. '_What was I giving her and who was she to give it to?' _Darcey desperately tries to recall.

She's stirred from her revelation by another eerie shriek resounding from the cursed girl as she falls limp and twitching to the snowy earth. Darcey comes closer and to her horror recognizes three of the four students huddled around the unconscious figure. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, the golden trio.

Before Darcey can run away, back towards the direction she came Harry's green eyes lock on her clear, blue wide ones. She steps closer, peering over Hermione's shoulder and catching a look of the ghostly pale and possibly dead student lying in the snow.

"We need to get help!" Harry shouts at the group, pulling his gaze away from his shocked sister.

Darcey doesn't move, her feet feeling as if they're made of lead. She stares blankly with wide, fearful eyes at Katie Bell before her eyes wonder to the brown, paper parcel ripped open and lying a few feet away. A triangular, aquamarine topaz necklace glimmers in the snow and Darcey finds herself moving towards it, drawn to the dark magic radiating from it. She can hear the piece of jewelry whispering to her, hissing like a serpent.

A pair of huge, glove-like hands grips onto her shoulders, guiding her away from the dark artifact. "Don't yer touch it!" Hagrid the half giant bellows. "All of yer stay away from it!" Hagrid commands, moving from Harry and Darcey, both hovered over the haunted necklace and picking up the unmoving Katie Bell, who looks tiny in his humongous arms.

Darcey follows Hagrid, the trio, and a Hufflepuff girl who says she's Katie's friend, back up to the castle, darting in the opposite direction from them once they enter the Great Hall and sneaking off to the dungeons.

Darcey hides herself in the dormitory, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, willing the warmth to re-enter her freezing, numb extremities.

She grips her holly wand tightly against to her chest, not moving her gaze from the door, ready to curse the blond Death Eater if he somehow manages to enter.

She's shaking, shivering. Her cheeks are flushed and chapped from the relentless, arctic wind. She feels empty apart from an overwhelming sense of terror. "_What have I done?" _Darcey whispers to herself in sheer horror. The memory of the possessed Gryffindor replaying over and over in her head, she's sure the image will haunt her forever.


	8. Chapter 8: Slaughterhouse

Professor Albus Dumbledore peers down at the dark magical artifact lying on his desk, a cursed, turquoise necklace.

Professor Snape stands behind him, near the threshold of the Headmasters oval office. His face appears sullen and somber.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Snape greets in a monotones, gazing at the elder sorcerer through a curtain of coal-black hair.

"Come Severus, have a look at this. I must warn you though not to touch it, I believe it to be cursed. Yet, I wanted to seek out your professional opinion." Dumbledore explains, watching as his colleague strides through the room, his long, black robes billowing behind him.

He stops on the opposite side of the Headmaster, glancing down at the aquamarine necklace radiating with black magic and mutters and incantation that reveals any deviant properties residing in the object.

"Yes, it is indeed cursed." Severus drawls, levitating the necklace before him and now picking up on the whispering, wicked voices that seem to be resounding from the ominous piece of jewelry.

"Katie Bell was found nearly dead this afternoon. Her friend Luanne Smith says she was acting unusual when she returned from the lavatory of The Three Broomsticks pub with a wrapped package that she found suddenly very important to give to me." Dumbledore begins, clutching his hands together atop his bright, electric blue robe.

"The girl's struggled over the package, Luanne says she tried to stop Katie from delivering it and in their skirmish the package was ripped open and this necklace fell out." Dumbledore gestures with his good hand to the cursed artifact.

"Luanne warned Katie not to touch the necklace but Katie was dead set on delivering it to me and grabbed for it. As her fingers made contact she become suddenly possessed by some unseen, malevolent force and hovered in the air, screaming before falling unconscious to the ground. The only witnesses to the attack were Luanne Smith, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and a student of your house, Darcey Davis, whom you know to be Harry's twin sister." Dumbledore explains, twiddling his long, silvery beard in between his fingers while peering down at the cursed necklace.

"Peculiar." Snape replies slowly, his eyes glistening with curiosity. "What was Miss Davis doing amongst four Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff? Was she with Potter?" Snape asks, arching an inky brow.

"No, Harry tells me they hadn't even noticed Davis was standing there until after the attack. So it seems she had arrived moments after they'd stumbled upon the cursed girl themselves." Dumbledore says.

"I might add, Harry Potter is convinced that it was Draco Malfoy whom is responsible for cursing Katie Bell." Albus adds, his voice soft, holding no judgment towards Draco.

Snape stiffens at the mention of Draco Malfoy, the young Death Eater he's vowed to look after. Dumbledore has been made aware of Draco's mission and of the Unbreakable Vow Severus made with Narcissa Malfoy over the summer. Severus vowed to help see the boy through his mission and to complete it for him shall he find himself unable to murder the Headmaster.

Dumbledore had decided that Snape would have to follow through with killing him. The elder sorcerer was dying a slow, painful death due to a curse he had sustained to his right hand, and the dark magic was slowly spreading and would continue to spread until it eventually reached his heart, thus killing him. Snape predicted Dumbledore only had another few years, at most, to live. So rather than spare an innocent youth, Snape was to murder Dumbledore.

"It seems it's impossible that Draco Malfoy cursed Katie Bell seeing as he was serving a detention with Professor McGonagall during the attack." Dumbledore continues, eyeing the other wizard closely for a reaction, his blue eyes glistening with curiosity.

"Luanne mentioned seeing Darcey Davis enter the lavatory shortly before Katie. Is it possible Darcey has involvement in the attack?" Dumbledore wonders aloud.

"It's possible." Snape admits flatly. "Although, I haven't a doubt in my mind that Draco Malfoy is the one truly behind the attack. Though, I can't say whether or not Darcey Davis participated willingly." He adds, his expression blank and unreadable.

Dumbledore moves behind his mahogany desk, taking a seat on the velvet, cushioned chair and resting both his cursed, black veined hand and his healthy one on top of his desk. He peers down at the wicked necklace deep in thought.

"It seems what I've feared has come. Darcey Potter is headed down a dark path, just as the prophecy predicts of her. I had hoped that by me sparing her the details of her destiny, she would be given the chance to redeem herself." Dumbledore sighs, a grave look on his normally airy features. "Tell me Severus, has Darcey befriended Draco Malfoy?" He asks seriously.

"Not that I'm aware." Snape replies honestly, his tone indifferent.

"I ask of you a favor, Severus." Dumbledore begins; his twinkling blue eyes meeting Snape's black, lightless ones. "Watch over Darcey Potter. Do your best to guide her as she fulfills her destiny."

"_I will. Always_."

* * *

Darcey hides out in the dormitory for the entire weekend, requesting that Tracey bring leftovers to her room. She's terrified of risking an encounter with Malfoy again, knowing for certain now that he won't hold back from using Unforgivables on her, who's to say he won't kill her?

Darcey's certain Draco is furious that she was able to break free of the Imperius curse, but to her despair that doesn't matter, it had been too late and she'd already done the deed.

Now Katie Bell's in St. Mungo's and Darcey's worried the teachers will find out that it was she behind the gruesome attack.

_'Would they believe me if I claimed to be under the Imperius curse?'_ She wonders, hoping desperately that they would. Although, using dark magic against Malfoy had most likely wounded her cause.

Wasn't it ironic that she was the villain here? When it was Malfoy who was a Death Eater, Malfoy who had nearly tortured her, Malfoy who had forced her to cast and Unforgivable curse on a student, and Malfoy who had first used dark magic against her in their duel a month ago.

Yes, Darcey decided. It was terrible luck that she might get blamed for all his heinous wrongdoings.

Hiding her wand in her robe, she's forced to leave the sanctuary of her dormitory. It's Monday and she has to attend her lessons, regardless of whether or not she feels her life is at stake.

Luckily she doesn't have to wander far, her first period being Potions just around the corner.

As she enters Slughorn's classroom she's pulled aside by the jolly, old Professor cloaked in olive robes. "Good to see you Miss Davis, I was just telling Zabini, Granger, and Potter here about my Christmas party next month. I do hope that you can attend." He says, smiling warmly at her.

"But of course, Professor." Darcey manages, forcing a polite smile.

"Wonderful!" Slughorn beams, clapping her on the back before dismissing his Slug Club students, who all walk back to their seats.

Darcey is thankful she doesn't share a table with Malfoy, as she feels his piercing gaze burning into her back. She doesn't dare look at him.

Today I'll be placing you into teams to complete your assignment, the first team to brew a successful batch of Polyjuice Potion will be rewarded 20 house points each." Slughorn states excitedly and with the flick of his wand, small pieces of parchment with scribbled names land in front of them. Darcey picks up her paper, the size of a fortune and reads the sloppy, slanted name, '_Harry Potter_.'

'_Just bloody fantastic!_' Darcey mentally groans. Scooping up her satchel and textbook and heading over to Potter's table. Continuing her good luck, she spots the two other partners she's sharing a table with, Parkinson and Weasley, and Malfoy and Granger, all looking equally as miserable as her.

Darcey does her best to ignore Malfoy, opening her book to the correct page number and reading over the ingredients.

"I'll get the stuff." Darcey offers to Harry, eager to get away. He nods stiffly, getting the fire under the cauldron started.

Darcey scans the cupboard and begins collecting the things she needs when she feels a presence beside her. Looking up, her cerulean eyes meet Malfoy's and she takes note that he doesn't look enraged, like she'd predicted. Instead he looks dejected and sickly, his face appearing pallid and washed-out as if he's under a vast amount of stress. His pale gray eyes lock with hers for a brief moment, and neither of them says anything, as Parkinson presses herself between them, grabbing the leeches and fluxweed from off the shelf.

Darcey returns to their table with their ingredients and scans her textbook for the first step.

Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron. (Must be picked on a full moon)

Only to discover Harry beating her to it, she proceeds to the next two steps.

Add 2 bundles of knotgrass to the cauldron.

Stir 3 times clockwise.

When Harry adds the knotgrass Darcey makes a grab for the ladle, stirring three times clockwise and casting him a scowl. "We're supposed to be working together." Darcey hisses under her breath, low enough so just her brother can hear.

Harry's bright, green eyes look back at her, narrowed slightly in challenge. "_Fine, you can add the leeches, if it will make you happy."_ Harry replies, thinking that Darcey is being immature.

"How about you read the instructions to _me _and_ I'll_ add the ingredients." Darcey states matter of fact as if expecting to get her way.

"Fair chance." Harry scoffs, grabbing the spoon from her as she begins barbarically crushing the lacewing flies to a pulp.

"Give me that!" Harry stops her, grabbing her arm and attempting to snatch away the spoon. Darcey holds it out of his reach on the other side of her defiantly.

"No! It's my turn to do something." Darcey demands.

"Darcey, _give me it_." Harry growls, still clawing for the spoon on the other side of her.

"Back off Potter!" Darcey shouts as Harry finally pulls her into him and reaches across her, snatching the spoon from her grip triumphantly.

"_You're supposed to press it."_ Harry explains, much calmer now that he has the spoon, but still slightly out of breath from their fight.

"_No, it says here to crush it. That's what I was doing."_ Darcey argues, jabbing a pale finger into the textbook.

By now Darcey takes notice of the other eyes at the table on her. Hermione looks fearful as if she's worried the two twins might hex each other at any moment. Malfoy looks indifferent, standing aside and letting Granger do all the work for him as he watches the altercation between Potter and Davis with interest, a small smirk on his lips. Ron looks terrified of his partner, standing back as Pansy does most of the work, barking orders at him to hand her certain ingredients and watching Harry and Darcey with a goofy grin, amused by their bickering.

"You have no idea what you're doing, just let me do it." Darcey sighs in exasperation, peering on her tiptoes over her brother's shoulder as he measures the lacewings flies, adding them to the bubbling cauldron and ignoring her.

"It says _low_ heat! That's _medium-low_." Darcey cries out, reaching to adjust the heat.

"No, I have it on _low_." Harry argues, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from tampering with the temperature.

"Potter, you're going to get us failed." Darcey whines, prying at the claw-like grip on her wrist. "I got an O last year, I know bloody well what I'm doing." Darcey adds arrogantly.

"_Just trust me!"_ Harry shouts letting go of her wrist as she stubbornly lowers the heat.

"_I'm not trusting you with my grade! You're an 'E' student!"_ Darcey replies as if that's an insult before suddenly noticing the textbook clutched in his hand has been written upon.

"What's that you've got there?" Darcey inquires curiously, snatching the book from Harry before he has the chance to stop her.

"_Nothing, give it back Davis!"_ Harry shouts, lunging for the book. Darcey turns away from him so he's met with the back of her robes as her eyes scan over the doodles on the page with interest.

"_Did you write this?"_ She asks, finally handing Harry his book back after much protest.

"_No. Erm- Yes_." Harry lies hastily.

"_Well which is it?"_ Darcey demands in an annoyed tone.

"_None of your business_." Harry counters stubbornly, stowing away the worn, leather Potions book inside his bag and out of her view.

"Have it your way then. Go on, finish it." Harry grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping aside, letting his persistent sister take over.

Darcey finishes brewing their potion successfully, but due to them bickering Granger and Malfoy finish first, correction, _Granger _finishes first, earning her and her partner 20 house points.

After class Malfoy approaches her, pulling her off to the side of the corridor in a secluded spot.

Darcey's heart races in fear as she yanks her wrist from his grip and draws her wand, pressing it into his chest. Her sapphire eyes glare up at him, silently daring him to try something again.

"_How dare you use me to do your bidding." _Darcey seethes, careful to keep her tone hushed to prevent any passerby's from listening. "_What's wrong with you?"_ Darcey asks her tone utterly disgusted. "_The Imperius curse, seriously Draco?"_ She adds, still in shocked.

"_I did what I had to_." Draco hisses darkly, his ashen eyes piercing through her and his pale lips forming a thin, straight line as his jaw clenches in anger.

"_Take this as a warning Davis. If you tell anyone that it was I who cursed you. I promise that you'll be next_." He warns, pressing his own wand against Darcey's neck. She flinches away at the contact but Draco grabs her roughly by the arm, holding her in place.

"_You don't want me as an enemy_." Draco threatens before releasing his grip on her. Darcey looks up at him in bewilderment, genuinely shocked by how thick he's being.

"_I'm not trying to be enemies! I want us to be allies. I told you before I'm not going to tell anyone, but I will not accept having dark magic used against me. If you need my help ask for it!" _Darcey nearly shouts, struggling to keep her voice low as the anger floods her. '_Merlin, he can be an idiot sometimes!' _

With that said she storms off to her next class, leaving Malfoy behind in the corridor and hoping soon they can get on neutral ground._ 'I've never found it so difficult to befriend someone! Why is this so bloody difficult?_' Darcey wonders, seriously questioning if the galaxy has it out for her_. 'Or maybe you're just terrible at making friends. That would explain why you don't have any.' _The cynical part of her chimes in, and Darcey has to agree, it seems she possesses the social skills of a werewolf during full moon.

* * *

The classroom is dimly lit, the sconces on the wall illuminating the grizzly, gruesome paintings hung around the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, depicting, bloody, mangled and deformed witches and wizards as well as creatures of the night: werewolves, vampires, inferi, and dementors.

Draco is pressed against the stone wall, the light of the rising moon glowing through the red stained glass window beside him, making the classroom look as if it's been bathed in blood.

Severus Snape grips tightly to the boy's collar, having just thrust him against the wall. The professor towers over him, looming like a dementor with his long black robes and equally black hair, framing his sallow, pale face.

His glacial ebony eyes narrow down at the blond, meeting a pair of furious, silver orbs that glare up at him.

"_You're getting careless."_ The elder wizard hisses, abruptly letting go of Draco's collar and shoving him roughly aside. The student stumbles, tripping over himself but grabs a nearby desk to break the fall.

"_I can do this! I don't need your help. The Dark Lord chose me!"_ Draco shouts back, still clutching the desk with both hands behind him for support as his body begins to tremble against his will.

_"How is it you managed to get a cursed necklace into the castle? It's impossible."_ Snape asks coldly, eyeing the young Death Eater with suspicion.

_"Seems I'm more capable than you thought._" Draco smirks smugly, feeling a burst of self-confidence at the professor's words.

Snape lunges at the boy again and Draco flinches away, pushing the desk behind him back with a loud screech. Snape doesn't grab for the boy, just towers over him, his black eyes glistening with fury.

"Who helped you mend the vanishing cabinet?" Snape demands in a low, icy tone.

"I did it on my own. I told you, I'm more capable-"

_"Liar!"_ Snape seethes, drawing his wand and pointing it at the young Death Eater.

_"Legilimens"_

Draco feels the elder Death Eater attempt to penetrate his mind and read his thoughts. Remembering what his aunt Bella taught him, he focuses on controlling his emotions and emptying his mind, staring blankly back at the professor. Draco feels his Occlumency shield fall into place, an impenetrable force repelling Snape's intrusion and successfully dispelling him from his head.

Snape stumbles back, looking over at Draco with an unreadable expression as he clutches his throbbing temple. He straightens himself, smoothing his robes and flicking the curtain of greasy black hair out of his eyes.

"_Who taught you to discipline your mind?"_ Snape asks calmly, his voice low and cold.

"Bellatrix." Draco answers smugly, tightening his grip on his own Hawthorne wand that he drew while Snape was momentarily caught off guard. Draco points the wand directly at the professor's chest, as a silent warning.

"_Who helped you mend the vanishing cabinet Draco?" S_nape continues in the same eerily calm voice.

"_There's nothing left to discuss here."_ Draco states coldly, backing up slowly to the door, his wand still pointed at Snape's chest. Snape lowers his own wand, staring at him blankly but Draco doesn't disengage.

_"Leave me alone or I'll tell the Dark Lord you're hindering my mission. I don't think he'd like that very much_." Draco hisses.

When his hand clutches the cool, brass doorknob Snape finally speaks once more.

"Was it Darcey Davis who assisted you?"

Draco's eyes widen momentarily, his gray eyes flashing up at the professor but his mouth remaining closed. He doesn't respond just stares blankly back at him.

'_How could he possibly know that? Unless Davis snitched…"_ Draco realizes, vowing to curse the girl.

Draco pushes open the door behind him, quickly exiting the classroom, eager to get away from Snape.

He flees to the Great Hall; aware he's missed most of supper, but wanting to be somewhere more public. He doesn't want Snape catching him alone again. His mind begins to race, swirling around thoughts of Darcey Davis. If she's gone blabbing her mouth to Snape, whom else has she told his secret to? Has she gone to Dumbledore? Has she blown his cover? He's aware his time to kill Dumbledore may have expired. If that wench told Dumbledore than she's just sealed the fate of Draco and his family. She's just sentenced them to an execution.

As he walks into the Great Hall, intent on finding Davis, his gray eyes instead fall upon the two Gryffindor's in front of him. It seems Katie Bell has just been released from her two-day stay at St. Mungo's and is talking to a heated looking Potter.

Potter's eyes catch the young Death Eater's, narrowing in suspicion as Malfoy turns around and runs from the Great Hall.

"Sorry Harry, it's a bit foggy." Katie frowns, peering down at her hands, feeling disappointed with herself for being unable to recall the events of last Saturday afternoon.

"It's okay, I'm glad you're feeling better." Harry reassures her, offering his teammate a warm smile before excusing himself and heading for the direction Malfoy ran off to.

Harry has known all along that Malfoy was a Death Eater ever since the day he spied on him on the train. He's watched him for weeks disappear off the Marauders Map. He's certain he had been the one to curse Katie Bell and now his suspicious behavior only proved for Harry further that he had been right all along. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater.

Harry slips behind a knight of armor in the corridor off the Entrance Hall, camouflaging himself in the shadows as he pulls from his robe the Marauders Map and finds Malfoy's set of black footprints in the bathroom near the dungeons.

* * *

Draco stands hunched over the porcelain sink of the boy's bathroom, his pale knuckles turning even whiter as he grips tightly to the sink. He's swaying back and forth, feeling the urge to do something, anything.

His thoughts turn dark as he begins to panic. _Potter knows_. Katie told him that it was Darcey who cursed her and it's only a matter of time before the trail leads back to him, as he was the one to curse Darcey. Even if Davis hasn't yet told Dumbledore _what he is_, it doesn't matter because _Potter knows_ and he'll stop at nothing to expose Draco to the whole school. _'Time's up, I'm going to die.'_

He reaches out, turning on the faucet as a jet of cold water pours from it. He cups his hands under the flow catching some before bringing it up to his face where he splashes the freezing cold water on himself.

He looks back up in the mirror, his pale, hollow reflection gazing back at him, his gray eyes murky in the moonlight slipping through the high windows in the otherwise lightless bathroom.

Dark circles ring his eyes, and he's lost weight, his face looking thin and pallid, a sickly gray in hue. His milky blond hair only makes him look fairer, bloodless even.

He already looks ghostly, and his haunted reflection does nothing to ease his panic. '_I look like a dead man. I **am** a dead man.' _He realizes, unable to bear looking at himself any longer his fist jolts forward making contact with the mirror. Shards of broken glass fall to the floor where they shatter further.

He glances down at his fist, still clenched tight as crimson blood oozes from the cuts on his knuckles, slowly sliding down his fingers where the blood falls, landing in small droplets on his shoe.

Draco moves his stormy gray eyes back to the broken mirror, there's one shard still in tact, reflecting in it the upper right side of his face. Something catches his attention, a dark shadow looming behind him. He whips around drawing his wand, pointing it at Potter. '_How long has he been here?'_

"I know what you did Malfoy." Says Potter, pointing his wand back at him.

"Get away from him." Interrupts a female voice.

* * *

Darcey sits in the Great Hall, eating her supper, which consists of a chicken leg, mashed potatoes, steamed spinach and pumpkin juice. The goblet is pressed to her lips when Tracey speaks up from beside her.

"Have you heard? Katie Bell just got released from St. Mungo's. I hear she was petrified." Tracey says in a conversational tone, not looking up from The Daily Prophet clutched in her hands.

Darcey nearly spits out her pumpkin juice as she clamps a hand over her mouth to contain the liquid. She swallows hard, looking over at her sister with wide eyes.

"_No_." Daphne interrupts from across from them at the table. "Not petrified, _cursed_. I hear she bought an antique necklace from a hag in Hogsmeade and when she went to put it on she fell into a coma." Daphne clarifies matter of fact.

Darcey looks up as the topic of their conversation enters the room, greeted by a sea of fellow Gryffindor's who swarm to hug her and welcome her back to school.

Darcey feels her stomach clench in fear, '_What if she remembers it was I who cursed her?'_

"I'm going back to the dormitory."Darcey announces, rising suddenly from the Slytherin table.

"Why so soon?" Tracey questions, arching a brow, her dark brown eyes catching her sister's blue ones.

"Tired. Need to lie down." Darcey lies shortly, flinging her bag over her shoulder and guiding her right leg up over the bench. Her sapphire eyes catch her brother's shock of messy black hair in the sea of Gryffindor's. He's pulling Katie Bell aside and they're talking. Darcey stiffens, her body frozen in place as she watches them with wide, terrified eyes.

_'It's over. I'm getting expelled. There's no way that anyone will believe me.' _Darcey realizes.

As if on cue, her thoughts seem to pull the Death Eater responsible to her as Draco Malfoy struts into the Great Hall. Stopping dead in his tracks when his pale eyes lock on Harry Potter and Katie Bell interacting.

Harry catches Malfoy from the corner of his eye, trailing his figure as he flees from the Great Hall. After a moment Harry excuses himself from Katie and follows after Malfoy. '_This isn't good_.' Darcey mentally panics, quickly running after the two boys.

_"_Darcey, wait!" Tracey calls from behind her but Darcey ignores her sister, instead quickening her pace to catch up with her brother and Draco.

She spots Harry slip inside the boy's bathroom at the end of the corridor just as Tracey latches onto her wrist, jerking her backwards.

"_What?_" Darcey bellows angrily, annoyed with Tracey's interference.

"_What's going on? You're acting strange…"_ Tracey asks, her normally cold brown eyes glistening with concern. Darcey's face softens, her annoyance set aside.

"_There's going to be a fight. Come on_." Darcey supplies eagerly. Tricking her sister into thinking she's just hoping to see a showdown between Malfoy and Potter. After all, the whole school knows they're sworn enemies, so it's not unbelievable.

Tracey follows closely behind her sister as they rush into the bathroom, with both wands drawn.

Darcey opens the door and is met by Harry a few feet in front of her, his eyes locked on somebody else who Darcey can't see from around the corner, but knows that it's Draco.

"I know what you did Malfoy." Harry accuses coldly.

"Get away from him." Tracey bellows from beside her, stepping around the corner, her wand inches away from Harry's temple.

Darcey points her wand at her sister's back, following her out from the shadows. She notices the pale blond near the sinks from the corner of her eye but doesn't look at him, keeping her eyes on her brother and sister instead.

"_Tracey, don't get involved. We're just here to watch."_ Darcey says slowly, careful to choose her words wisely, not wanting the other two Slytherin's to be suspicious of her.

Harry doesn't move, his wand still pointed at Malfoy as his green eyes glances over at the new threat beside him. He doesn't move, knowing he's outnumbered and in a bad position. He has no choice but to do as the short Slytherin girl says.

"_Lower your wand Scarhead."_ Tracey commands, her voice cold.

Harry hesitates before doing as Tracy says, slowly lowering his arm. Just then Malfoy attacks, sending a nonverbal spell spiraling through the air straight at Harry's chest. "_Protego!_" Darcey shouts, putting up a shield between the two boys before it can collide with Harry.

Tracey looks back to her sister, shock written on her face. "Why'd you do that for?" Tracey demands in outrage. "I thought we wanted to see them fight."

Using Darcey and Tracey's distraction Malfoy shoots another hex at Harry, forcing him to lunge to his left behind the row of toilet stalls to dodge the attack.

The hex blasts a hole in the wall next to the sister's where Harry once stood. Chunks of debris rain down upon them. One large hunk of stone hits Tracey in the back of the skull, sending her sprawled out on the floor.

Darcey looks over in horror at her sister, removing her hands from the top of her head, where they had been attempting to shield her from the blow, and rushing forward to kneel before her sister.

"_What have you done Draco!"_ Darcey shouts, tenderly cupping her sister's head in her hands and when she lifts it off the floor she notices a small pool of blood.

Suddenly the bathroom door behind Darcey flies open, revealing two surprised students.

"What's going on in here?" Katie Bell asks, scanning the room, first noticing the unconscious Slytherin girl on the ground, Darcey cupping her sister's head in her lap, Malfoy standing near the sinks looking horrified, Harry cowering under the toilet, still shielding his head with his arms, and last Katie's brown eyes come to rest on the large, crater in the wall next to her.

"I'll go get a teacher." Luanne Smith, a seventh year Hufflepuff says, running from the bathroom to fetch help.

Nobody moves as Darcey's blue eyes peer up at Katie's, her brown eyes widening in horror and recognition.

Katie takes a step backwards, her body pressed flush against the wall, putting as much distance between the two girls as possible.

"_It was you!"_ She shrieks, pointing her finger at Darcey and before the girl can utter another word Darcey panics, pointing her wand at Katie, she quickly shouts,

"_Obliviate!"_

Just as Katie's eyes widen, then dull, another spell hits her. "_Petrificus Totalus"_

Darcey's head snaps over to Malfoy, who had been the one to immobilize Katie. He shoots another spell, aiming for Darcey. She closes her eyes and braces herself to be hit.

Draco casts a shield in front of Davis, blocking Potter's hex at her that she hadn't seen coming.

"_What did she mean it was you?_" Harry yells out furiously, his wand still drawn on his sister as he glares down upon her. "_You were the one to curse her?"_ He asks enraged.

A pair of fearful blue eyes look up at him, as Darcey gently places her sister's head back on the ground and very slowly rises to her feet to stand before her brother.

"_I don't know what you're talking about Potter."_ Darcey replies in an eerily cold voice, looking Harry straight in the eye, she lies to his face.

Harry feels the anger blazing inside him. So it had been true, Darcey and Draco were both Death Eater's. She only apologized to him in an attempt to fool him into getting close to her. Dumbledore was right, telling him to stay away from Darcey, she was one of _them_.

"So all that rubbish about wanting to know more about our parents. That was all a lie?" Harry confirms angrily, feeling ill.

"What does he mean '_our parents'_?" Draco interrupts, looking between the two siblings, demanding an explanation.

"_Oh, didn't your girlfriend tell you Malfoy?"_ Harry spat, glaring between Draco and Darcey.

"_Harry no!"_ Darcey begs but Harry looks as if he's about to continue, his mouth opening to speak again.

"_Langlock!_" Darcey panics as she glues Harry's tongue to the roof of his mouth, preventing him from spilling their secret.

"_What did he mean 'our parents'?"_ Malfoy asks again, enraged now and quickly turning on Darcey, his wand now pointed at her instead of Potter.

Harry takes the chance to hex Malfoy using a nonverbal spell. The Slytherin's hit with a _Stupefy _as his body is thrown backwards into the sinks.

Draco groans, struggling to get back on his feet. The force of Potter's spell knocked the wind out of him. Harry casts a nonverbal disarming spell but Darcey puts up a shield between them, giving Draco time to get back up.

The two boys begin flinging hexes back and forth at one another, Malfoy quickly resorting to dark spells that Darcey has to block with a more powerful shield.

"Protego Maxima!" Darcey shouts for the second time, barely putting up the yellow shield in time, as Malfoy's dark purple curse hits it, turning the shield dark green.

Darcey can feel the dark magic in the room, prickling at her skin, like an invisible, electric current lashing out at her.

"_Stop!_" Darcey cries, once again throwing up a shield to protect her brother.

"_So you're related to him? How is that possible?"_ Draco demands in between curses.

Harry makes a loud groaning noise as he attempts to talk but only grunts come out.

"We're twins." Darcey finally admits, seeing no other possible explanation as to why her and Harry would share the same parents.

"_Now please stop trying to murder each other!"_ Darcey cries, growing annoyed at having to throw up shields every two seconds. "_Let's all talk maturely as adults!"_ Darcey squeaks.

Harry grunts in protest, probably saying that he would like to talk, but can't, seeing as his sister glued his mouth shut.

Harry shields himself behind the bathroom stall as Malfoy sends an onslaught of dark curses his way. When Darcey once again shields Harry from his spells, Malfoy finally turns on her like a cobra, using her distraction against her.

As she focuses on trying to protect Harry, Draco disarms her. Her holly wand soars across the bathroom, landing with a clatter under the row of toilets.

Just then Harry emerges from behind the far end of the stalls, taking the opportunity to curse his enemy while Malfoy is distracted with disarming Darcey.

Draco is hit, and suddenly large gashes rip across his skin, shredding through his clothing as if he's being attacked with an invisible sword. He falls to the ground, in a puddle of cold water, bleeding from the cuts torn across his body. The water turns scarlet as his blood mixes with it, making it appear he's bleeding much worse than he is, as half the bathroom floor turns bright red. It looks like a slaughterhouse.

Darcey runs over to Malfoy, kneeling down next to him, not caring that she's getting soaked as water sprays from a burst pipe in front of her. She rips off her robe and presses the fabric to the wounds on his chest, trying to clot the blood flow.

"_Help! Do something!"_ She cries desperately to Harry. "_He's going to die!"_

Tears leak from her eyes as she begins to sob, feeling helpless and terrified, not knowing what to do to save him. She's panicking and can't think clearly, if she would just calm down she would know to fetch her wand from under the toilets and she would recall the powerful healing spell she once read in an old healers book.

Luckily, just then Professor Snape bursts through the door with Luanne Smith standing timidly behind him, gazing around the room at all the bodies.

Snape kneels down next to Darcey, whose still sobbing and going mental.

"_Help him please! He's dying! He's dying!"_ Darcey begs hysterically, still pressing her now blood stained robe against his wounds, but there's too many cuts, she can't clot them all.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_" Snape casts the healing spell that Darcey was too upset to think of. He moves his wound over each wound muttering the spell again and again under his breath. Darcey watches with watery eyes as the cuts begin to heal themselves and relief floods her.

She turns back to look at her sister, rushing back to her side. She had nearly forgotten Tracey in the chaos. "She's bleeding from the head." Darcey tells Snape, cupping her sisters limp head in her lap.

Professor McGonagall bursts through the door, gazing in horror at the grizzly scene before her. It looks as if a battle was fought here. There's stiff bodies on the ground, a crater in the wall, rubble on the floor, the bathroom is flooded with crimson water. It's something straight out of a nightmare.

"_What in Godric's name happened in here?"_ McGonagall demands with wide eyes, still scanning the bathroom and taking in the destruction.

Luanne grabs the professors attention, pulling her over to her friend who's stiff as a board. With the swish of her wand the professor performs the counter curse and Katie sits up as Luanne wraps her arms tightly around her, thankful that she's okay.

"Minerva, if you will can you please take Miss Davis to the hospital wing, while I take these five to Professor Dumbledore." Snape speaks up, yanking Malfoy up off the ground by his arm rather roughly.

Draco looks ghostly white from loss of blood and seems to sway at the sudden movement. As McGonagall levitates Tracey, Darcey moves to stand by Malfoy, grabbing hold of him just as he's about to fall.

"Sir, he's really in no state-" Darcey begins to protest but is cut short by her Head of House.

"Then you will assist him to the Headmaster's office." Snape states coldly.

The two Slytherin's and their Head of House look over at the uncharacteristically quiet Harry Potter.

"I jinxed him. He can't talk." Darcey explains, as Snape's lips curl into a mocking smile.

"We'll leave it to Professor Dumbledore to fix him." Snape decides, enjoying the furious look Potter's casting him and the muffled grunts coming from the wizard as he tries to talk.

A trail of drool slides down Harry's chin before he quickly swats it away with the sleeve of his robe, watching as first Snape passes by him and then Darcey and Draco, to which he glares angrily at each of them. Luanne and Katie make up the tail as the group heads to the Headmaster's office.

The journey across the castle is slow and exhausting, at least for Darcey as she struggles to support Draco's weight against her. Neither of them makes eye contact with each other, but Darcey could have sworn she felt him staring at her at least twice, but she'd been too embarrassed to meet his piercing gaze.

As they enter Dumbledore's office, she's wondering what Draco's thinking and if he's just as nervous as she is to face Dumbledore. _'What will we tell him?'_ She wonders, trying to come up with a game plan.

Snape explains the state of the bathroom when he discovered them and then the students are given the chance to speak. As Darcey had predicted the Gryffindor's are the first to give their side of the tale, specifically Harry, as Dumbledore performs the counter curse to his sister's jinx, enabling the mute boy to finally speak again.

"When I was talking to Katie in the Great Hall I saw Malfoy enter. He spotted Katie and I and ran. I followed him to the bathroom to confront him. I knew Malfoy had been the one to curse Katie-" Harry begins but is interrupted by Snape's cold voice.

"_To which you have no proof Mr. Potter."_ Snape points out in a glacial tone.

"I believe Dumbledore gave me permission to speak, _sir_. It's rude to interrupt." Harry replies coolly, glaring back at the professor.

"If you will, please continue Harry." Dumbledore says, his blue eyes twinkling from behind his half mooned spectacles.

"As I was saying, I confronted Malfoy. I told him I knew it was him who cursed Katie and when I'd arrived he'd already punched one of the mirrors. His knuckles were bleeding and it looked as if he'd been crying."

As Harry says this Darcey notices Malfoy's fist clenching from beside her hand. It must be killing his pride to have Harry tell everyone that he'd been crying. Slytherin's never cry and Darcey can't help but wonder what upset him so bad to begin with.

"The Davis sister's arrived and Malfoy hexed me. It missed me and blew a hole in the wall. Tracey Davis got injured from flying debris. Luanne and Katie came in and Luanne went to get a teacher while Katie said it had been Darcey Davis who cursed her in Hogsmeade. Davis used Obliviate on her and Malfoy stunned her-" Once more Harry's interrupted, this time by Dumbledore who holds up his hand to Harry.

The Headmaster's moves to stand in front of the two Gryffindor girl's, his powder blue robes flaring at his ankles causing the silver crescent moons stitched along the hem to twinkle as it catches the light.

It's then that Darcey takes note of his mangled, black hand, clashing harshly against the pastel fabric of his robe.

Katie Bell's eyebrows furrow together as she struggles to recall the details of the fight. "All I remember is hearing an explosion and going into the bathroom. Then I think Malfoy hexed me, but it all seems a bit blurry. I can't really remember much, sir." Katie admits, unable to vouch for Harry.

"Sir, if I may." Darcey finds an opportunity to speak up. She feels all eyes turn to her as Dumbledore turns his attention to the girl in the corner of the room.

"It's just that, hadn't Katie just been released from St. Mungo's earlier today? Wouldn't it make sense that her bodies still recovering and that's why she's unable to recall much of what happened. Aren't dizzy spells a common side effect of recovering from a serious head injury?" Darcey politely suggests.

"She hadn't been to St. Mungo's for a head injury, she was in the hospital because she nearly died touching a cursed necklace that _you_ gave her!"Harry argues heatedly from the other end of the room.

"I was there Harry, _if you recall_. I watched her fall from fifteen feet in the air and she fell unconscious to the ground. A fall that high would result in a nasty head injury. Isn't that right Katie? Wasn't that why they kept you in St. Mungo's all weekend, to make sure you hadn't sustained serious injury to your head?" Darcey asks calmly, trying to keep the smugness from seeping into her tone.

The straight haired brunette looks over at Darcey, looking unsure of how to respond before finally nodding. "_Yes, I suppose."_

"_Sir, I'd like to tell my side of the story._" Draco speaks up next from beside Darcey.

After Dumbledore acknowledges him he continues.

"I had just entered the Great Hall when I spotted my ex girlfriend cozying up to Blaise Zabini. We had just broken things off last Friday after I suspected her of having feelings for another. At the site of her and Blaise, I fled the hall. I was in the bathroom angry and distraught when Potter came in. He accused me of cursing Katie Bell, which is a false accusation. I assumed he was prejudice towards me because of my father being sentenced to Azkaban over the summer. The Davis sisters arrived and saw Potter attack me. I acted in self-defense, missing him, my spell hit into the wall beside him. Tracey Davis was injured after being hit with debris." Draco pauses in his story as Harry makes a grunt of protest, but Dumbledore holds his hand up to him, signaling to let Draco speak.

"Smith and Bell entered the bathroom, Smith went to get a teacher and Bell complained of feeling dizzy and passed out just as Potter attacked me again. Davis here, came to my defense, casting shields in between us and trying to break up the fight." Draco explains and Darcey must admit his story is quite believable. He's a brilliant liar.

Dumbledore looks now to Darcey for confirmation and she hesitates, unsure of what to say. Should she take her brother's side, who is now convinced she's a Death Eater and loathes her, or should she take Draco's side, the Death Eater she's trying to ally with and the boy who nearly died this evening.

"I can't really recall who provoked the attack, I was preoccupied with my sister, who like they said, sustained an injury to the head and was lying unconscious on the floor. They were fighting and yes, I attempted to break up the fight by throwing shields between them." Darcey chooses her words carefully, attempting to stay neutral and not take either boy's side.

"If I may add, I found Mr. Malfoy nearly bleeding to death. It seems Mr. Potter had used extremely dark magic against him." Snape chimes in his voice monotonous and his face appearing indifferent, despite sticking up for Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, and Miss Davis, I think I'll leave it to each of your Head of House to decide a fair punishment for your actions tonight. May you each take with you a lesson from all of this, _no fighting in school_." Dumbledore says softly, his eyes twinkling as he bids them farewell.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you will come to my office. It seems you're in serious need of a blood replenishing elixir." Snape offers flatly once they're near the dungeons.

Draco has stopped walking, using the support of the stone wall behind him to keep from passing out. He blinks back the dizziness threatening to consume him and carries on stubbornly.

"_I don't need your stupid potions. I'm perfectly capable_." Draco sneered, reaching his hand out to Darcey and pulling her towards him. "_Davis here will see to it I make it to my dorm in one piece._" Malfoy adds smugly.

"Yes, I'll help him." Darcey offers when Professor Snape's ebony eyes land on her.

"Don't get into anymore trouble." Snape replies firmly, looking between the two students.

"You have our word, professor." Darcey supplies, forcing a small, polite smile.

"I'll be seeing you both next Friday evening for a detention in the Forbidden Forest." Snape says before leaving them.

Darcey keeps to her word, letting Malfoy lean on her for support as she guides them both back to the common room.

Once inside she eases Draco down gently onto one of the black, leather couches. Pointing her wand at the fireplace, she mutters "_Incendio" _bathing the common room in a glowing yellow light.

Darcey uses transformation to turn a nearby decorative vase into a plain, silver goblet before using magic to fill it with water. She silently offers Draco the drink and he takes it, quenching his thirst.

Sitting down across from him she watches him closely, eyeing his tattered robes and uniform and wondering if Harry's curse will leave him with scars. Her mind zones out as she turns her attention back to the fireplace, allowing the flickering orange flames to engulf her.

Darcey thinks over everything that's happened in the past few hours, and wonders where she should go from here.

After a few minutes a small clank breaks her from her thoughts, pulling her attention away from the fire.

She looks over at Draco, noticing he's finished drinking and has placed the goblet on the coffee table between them.

His stormy gray eyes lock with her crystal blue ones and neither of them speak, waiting for the other to begin first.

Finally after a very slow minute of Draco looking at the curly haired girl before him with blood stained clothes, he speaks up, his expression unreadable.

"_Why?_" Draco begins, elaborating when Darcey continues to stare blankly at him.

"_If Potter's your brother, why didn't you take his side in Dumbledore's office?"_ Draco asks curiously.

Darcey is surprised he's chosen this as his first inquiry She had assumed he'd bombard her with questions about Harry, trying to pry secret information from her for him to report back to the Dark Lord.

Darcey looks down at her intertwined fingers, fiddling with them as she calculates her answer.

"Believe it or not, I know you better than I know my own brother." Darcey explains sadly, taking a deep breath.

"I just found out a month ago that Harry and I are twins. So he's still a stranger to me. Plus he was already convinced I'm a Death Eater, every since our duel. So there's nothing I could gain by taking his side at this point…" Darcey shrugs feeling guilty with herself at how selfish that sounds, but as bad as it is to think that way, she can't deny that it's true.

Befriending Draco over her brother has its advantages. Befriending Harry, and going against Voldemort will only get her family killed. Befriending Draco, who's a Death Eater, can only help her now.

Draco's gray eyes scan over her, glistening slightly. His expression is still unreadable and Darcey faintly wonders what he's thinking.

"You mean to say, you had no idea until a month ago, that you were The Chosen One's sister? You're parents never told you who you were born to? You've spent your whole life not knowing who you were?" Draco asks, his tone carrying surprise, and for a brief second Darcey can see the pity reflecting back at her in his gray eyes and they seem to soften slightly, no longer a harsh, arctic tundra.

"_No idea_." Darcey replies softly, looking away from his sympathetic gaze not wanting to feel sorry for herself. The conversation is making her depressed.

Draco can sense her discomfort and decides to drop it, letting a comfortable silence linger over them before voicing his next question.

"If you know you're a Potter, why do you still want me as an ally. Why haven't you told Dumbledore what I am? Shouldn't you be terrified of me? Aren't you afraid I'll tell the Dark Lord?" Draco bombards her with new questions, feeling genuinely confused by Darcey's intentions with him. It doesn't make any sense. They should be sworn enemies.

"I was born to the Potter's, but I was raised a Davis. That is who I am. I'm staying true to myself in wanting to have nothing to do with the war, but it seems I have no choice. I know my secret will catch up to me, the Dark Lord will find out who I am, he may kill me. He may kill my family. He may try to use me to get to Harry." Darcey admits, her tone cold and blunt.

"Regardless, I have no say in the matter. There's not much I can do if the Dark Lord marks me as his enemy. So my logic is, rather than piss him off and go against him, surely getting my family and myself killed. Why not try to show him that I'm not fighting against him, that I have no loyalty to Harry Potter. I'm hoping when he discovers who I am he'll spare me once he sees that I'm not a threat. I'm just trying to increase my chances of survival. I don't want to see everyone around me that I love die. So I'm willing to do whatever it takes to live." Darcey confides, being completely honest with Draco about her intentions.

At least with Draco she doesn't have to feel guilty for who she is, for the way she thinks. If anyone would understand her reasoning it would be him, a fellow snake. Both sorted to Slytherin for sharing the same key qualities, their minds think alike.

_'Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.'_

Draco absorbs Darcey's words, clearly understanding now what she's playing at. She's doing essentially the same thing Draco is doing by becoming a Death Eater, by fulfilling his mission to kill Albus Dumbledore. He's doing whatever it takes to keep his family and him alive.

Both of them are fueled by self-preservation. Draco can relate to what Darcey's going through, perhaps they are more alike than he ever imagined, which is mental considering she's Scarhead's sister. Yet she's nothing like Potter and exactly like him, at least in their goals. Their ends are the same.

"_I can understand that_." Draco finally manages to vocalize some of his thoughts and he notices that Darcey looks relieved, as his approval seems to soothe something inside her, perhaps an inner turmoil.

"It's nearly midnight." The brunette observes, glancing over at the grandfather clock. "Do you need help getting up the stairs?" Darcey asks kindly, her cerulean eyes scanning over him in concern.

"_No, I'll manage on my own_." Draco declines stubbornly, rising from the couch and gripping the sofa arm, as he becomes light headed from the sudden movement.

"_Here, let me help you."_ Darcey demands, moving to stand in front of him.

"_Davis, I can't help but get the feeling you're trying to take advantage of my injured state_. _You seem rather keen on taking me upstairs._" Draco smirks smugly causing Darcey to let out a soft chuckle in appreciation of his witty humor.

"_You caught me Malfoy, just trying to slither into bed with you."_ Darcey admits sarcastically, playing along. She positions herself next to him, snaking Draco's arm over her shoulder, she helps him walk over to the base of the steps.

When she attempts to unlatch herself from under him, Draco tightens his arm around her, peering down at her in amusement as her blue eyes widen in surprise and her cheeks flush red at their close proximity.

"_Sure you don't want to take advantage of me Potter?"_ Draco teases seductively, whispering in her ear for effect. Enjoying the way she squirms against his grip.

Darcey forces herself away from him, punching him in the arm. _"Don't you dare call me that!"_ She protests.

"_So is that a yes?"_ Draco replies smoothly.

"_Goodnight Malfoy!_" Darcey rolls her eyes, brushing past him and making her way up the steps.


	9. Chapter 9: Gaining a Friend

It's a mid October Friday and while most students spend their weekend discussing the next Hogsmeade trip on Hallow's Eve, Darcey and Draco find themselves facing a detention with their Head of House, Professor Snape.

Darcey changes out of her uniform and into something more comfortable for their trek in the woods.

She grabs a plaid flannel shirt with a black jumper layered over top for warmth. She slips on her worn jeans and black leather boots.

She strides the length of the room to her sister's cot while quickly gathering her untamed hair into a ponytail to keep her neck from sweating outside.

"Remind me again why you're being punished when you were a _good girl_ and tried to break up the fight?" Tracey taunts from her spot on the bed. She's lying with her head propped upon a stack of fluffy, white, pillows. Her entire head is wrapped in a thick, cotton bandage to conceal the gash.

"_I dunno, ask Snape_." Darcey shrugs, not really bothered by the punishment and feeling she somewhat deserved it, but she wouldn't tell Tracey that. Knowing her sister would tease her for being so _saint-like._

"How are you feeling?" Darcey asks softly, peering down at her sister. "Do you need anything before I go?" She offers, feeling quite guilty. It had been, after all, Darcey's idea to drag Tracey along with her to the bathroom when she went after Harry and Draco. So in a way she at fault for Tracey getting hurt.

"Fetch me another blanket will you? It's freezing in here." Tracey demands, taking her sister up on the offer as she shivers, rubbing her arms up and down for warmth.

Darcey covers her with the quilt from her own cot before leaning down to hug her awkwardly, due to the angle.

"_Aw, such a softie you are. You'd make a wonderful healer."_ Tracey teases, reaching up to pat Darcey awkwardly on the shoulder, attempting a semi-hug.

"_Wand Maker._" Darcey corrects once they're apart. "And, you'd make a fantastic Pro Quidditch Player, considering you've already got a concussion to match." Darcey smiles in good nature.

"_Herbologist._" Tracey corrects with a teasing grin. "If I can ever get Professor Sprout to give me a high recommendation, it'd look fantastic on my resume…"

"Maybe you ought not to let her overhear you making fun of her patchwork hat and filthy robes, also not pointing out her resemblance to the Fat Friar may help to woo her." Darcey supplies, suppressing a cheeky grin.

"_Watch it!"_ She bellows, ducking from the pillow being flung at her.

"Don't you have a detention to go to?" Tracey counters, catching the pillow her sister returns to her.

"_What would I do without you always nagging me to be punctual?" _Darcey asks dramatically, glancing at the clock.

"You'd be constantly tardy, that's what. Now get a move on before you land yourself _another_ detention." Tracey scolds matter of fact, pointing a slender finger to the dormitory door.

"_Going mum."_ Darcey quips with the roll of her eyes before rushing out.

* * *

Darcey arrives at Snape's office with a minute to spare.

Draco is lazily leaning against the doorframe and straightens up when Snape wordlessly brushes past them. The two Slytherin's follow reluctantly behind him, neither too thrilled about hiking through the Forbidden Forest at nightfall, knowing how dangerous it is.

Outside Darcey is met with a chilling mist that presses against her skin, turning it dewy. The moon is invisible behind the thick clouds above and Darcey wonders if a storm is approaching, judging by the damp night air.

The wind picks up, shifting the trees of the Forbidden Forest, creating a symphony of roaring leaves that echo though the darkness like the growl of a mighty lion.

Darcey follows the light of Snape's patronus, a glowing, wispy deer encircling them.

Darcey chances a look at Draco beside her. Both his hair and skin seem to glow in the night, giving him a haunted, ghostly appearance. He has on an expensive looking black cloak overtop his school uniform, it seems he didn't bother to change for the occasion.

_'Perhaps he was too busy with whatever it is that Death Eater's occupy their precious time with_.' Darcey mentally sneers.

A chill radiates down her spine at the dark thoughts that come to mind when she remembers _what_ Draco is and _who_ he works for. The illuminated doe circles beside Darcey just in time, helping her to push away her morbid thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

"What exactly are we going to be doing in the Forbidden Forest, sir?" Darcey finally breaks the silence once they're near the neck of the woods.

Snape doesn't turn back to face her as he replies, "Collecting wolf hair, Miss Davis."

Darcey and Draco halt in their tracks, as the two exchange a look between them of utter disbelief.

"You can't be serious, sir? Wolves are extremely dangerous animals." Darcey retorts fearfully feeling a knot forming in her throat as she swallows hard.

Professor Snape stops a few feet in front of them, turning back to cast his two students a look of mild annoyance, a small mocking smile appearing on his lips when his ebony eyes land on Darcey's.

"_Indeed_." Snape drawls. "Though, perhaps I should have made myself clearer, we are in search of beasts tonight not _animals_. These wolves are different than wild wolves, Professor Dumbledore himself released these cubs into the forest years ago."

"_What makes these wolves so special?"_ Draco sneers skeptically.

Professor Snape's eyes shift to Malfoy, his face darkening as he responds. "These are the cubs produced from mated werewolves. Therefore, although canine in appearance, on an intellectual level they are equally as bright as human beings."

"Fascinating!" Darcey can't help but blurt out. "I had no idea such a creature even existed." She admits with a grin.

"The wolves are not dangerous unless provoked, so I warn each of you not to say anything _stupid_." Snape hisses, his eyes lingering on Malfoy's.

"_Yes, sir."_ The students chime in unison. Darcey's voice eager and excited and Draco's disinterested, laced with boredom.

"Cast your patronus, there's a rise in the dementor population this year." Snape instructs, leading them into the forest.

"_Expecto Patronum_" Darcey states clearly, following second behind Snape, not wanting to bring up the rear.

Draco casts his patronus silently, reminding Darcey that she should be practicing nonverbal spells as well. She mentally scolds herself for being so forgetful, it's an important skill and she should have put more effort into mastering it.

Darcey's illuminated fox slyly encircles her. As they venture deeper into the forest, Darcey watches as her patronus occasionally mingles with Draco's majestic steed or Snape's alert doe, randomly darting beneath the legs of the two larger mammals.

The air in the forest is damp and suffocating. The rise in the humidity level makes it hard to breathe and the icy night air stings against her lungs.

Humongous, shadowy tree trunks encompass them and the canopy of rustling, dry leaves above blocks out any light or sound from coming in. The forest is eerily silent apart from the crunch of dead leaves beneath their feet and the occasional howling of the wind.

The trio has journeyed into the depths of the forest for a good twenty minutes before Snape stops at a small clearing, where the exposed roots of a fallen Sitka Spruce have formed a sort of cavern.

The patronus still encircling their masters are the only source of light, casting an eerie blue glow upon the clearing, but not close enough to illuminate the shadowy den.

"Acerbus" Professor Snape greets as a pair of bright yellow eyes appear from within the web of tangled roots.

Stepping closer, a large, intimidating wolf stalks slowly towards them, it's black fur matted and sticking out at odd angles, giving the beast a rabid sort of appearance.

The piercing yellow eyes of the wolf fall upon the two students, inspecting them closely for any sign of them being a threat.

"Thank you Acerbus for your generosity." Snape bows his head, a curtain of greasy black hair momentarily shielding his face, before stepping forward to pluck a few hairs from the wolf's back.

The wolf, Acerbus stands calmly, allowing Snape to pluck however much he needs. Acerbus' eyes still locked on Darcey and Draco, who look weary to approach the wolf.

"I've brought friends to join me this evening." Snape speaks up, acknowledging the discomfort of the two Slytherin's at having the wolf stare at them so hungrily.

Feeling as if she should say or do something Darcey leans forward to bow, mimicking what Professor Snape had done just moments before. "It's an honor to meet you." Says Darcey, her tone polite and sincere.

Draco lifts his chin slightly in arrogance, refusing to bow before the beast. He stays silent, staring back at the wolf with narrowed gray eyes.

Suddenly three small pups dart from the den, one stopping to sniff Snape's pant leg and the other two jumping excitedly against Darcey and Draco's legs. Draco stiffens, gazing down at the wolf cub and choosing to ignore it.

Without hesitation Darcey kneels down to pet the pup, it's two front paws resting on her knee as it gazes up at her with the same bright, yellow eyes as the elder wolf.

"_Hello there._" Darcey beams, stroking the pup gently between the ears.

Suddenly Acerbus lunges forward with a feral growl.

"_Get away from the cubs!"_ Snape shouts out, having just realized what Darcey's done.

Before Darcey has time to react she's tackled to the ground, a pair of sharp claws digging into her collarbone and a set of exposed canine teeth inches from piercing her neck.

"Acerbus she didn't know any better, she's just a child." Darcey can hear her Head of House speaking from somewhere to her right but can't see him over the snarling beast hovered above her.

"_I'm sorry."_ Darcey whispers quietly, her eyes moving slowly from the wolf's sharp teeth to its glowing, amber eyes.

"She meant no disrespect." Snape speaks again, his tone calm and rational.

"I will deal with her." He adds firmly.

Closing her eyes, Darcey braces herself for the bite, convinced she's doomed. After the longest minute of her life she feels the wolf step over her and the weight of it's body is lifted from her. She remains stiff as a board her eyes shut tight, terrified to open them in case the beast changes its mind and comes back to kill her.

"You're bleeding." Draco observes, kneeling down beside her.

Darcey opens her eyes and she's met with a pair of wide, fearful gray ones, gazing down upon her with concern.

"_I'm alive_." Darcey whispers, more to herself than to her class mate. She allows Draco to slip his arm up under her neck and help lift her upper body from the cold, wet ground.

She sits up, reaching out and clutching Draco's arm in an attempt to feel more secure.

"_Where'd it go?"_ Darcey asks fearfully, glancing around the clearing but Malfoy's body blocks most of her view.

Just then Snape appears, pulling her gently from the ground and gripping onto her shoulders tightly. "What were you thinking?" He demands peering down at her, his normally cold, hard eyes glistening with concern.

"_I just- I petted it_." Darcey stutters, still confused as to what she did to provoke the attack.

"I told you they were equal to humans, would you reach out and _pet _someone's infant without permission from the mother?" Snape explains sternly.

"No, I guess not…" Darcey frowns, feeling incredibly foolish. _'How could I have been so daft?'_

"Let's return to the castle, we've collected what we've come for." Snape says, gripping the two students firmly by the back of their necks and leading them in the direction from which they came.

The rhythmic crunching of their footsteps are suddenly masked by galloping, heavy hooves.

"Just a centaur herd passing through." Snape reassures the two frightened students as he notices that Darcey is shivering slightly, still thoroughly shaken from her near death experience.

A stampede of centaurs, that have the body of horse and the torso of a man, gallop past them. The group weaves around them, encircling them from all sides as they pass by without so much as a glimpse towards the humans. Their heads held proud, they look ahead, except one, Darcey notices. One of the centaurs, with a mane of untamed, curly red hair stops in front of her. He gazes down at the witch with sapphire eyes, so bright and vivid, that they make Darcey's eyes look dull and murky in comparison. She's never seen such beautiful orbs in her life.

"_You- you're the witch from my visions."_ The low, handsome voice of the centaur whispers, his voiced laced with sorrow.

"Pardon?" Darcey replies quietly, feeling dumbstruck.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the most feared will be born as the seventh month dies and he will share blood with another, opening in weakness and closing in strength... and they will know naught of the other until after the sixteenth eve of the blood sacrifice... and she will betray him gaining her master's favor. Her decision will end the life of a man." _The centaur recites the prophecy he's held with him for sixteen years.

"I've waited a very long time for fate to intertwine our paths. It seems destiny has brought us together tonight." The centaur bows respectfully, despite accusing the witch in front of him of murder.

Darcey feels her lungs constrict, and can hardly breath. The weight of the centaur's words hit her fully, having just heard for the first time a prophecy meant for her.

_Was that? Was that a prophecy?"_ Draco asks from beside her, his voice laced with disbelief, hardly believing what he's just bared witnessed to.

Snape stands frozen, staring with an unreadable expression between Darcey and the centaur. Finally snapping out of his shock when Darcey takes off, bolting through the woods. He commands Draco to stay with the centaur as he goes off after her.

She runs as fast as her long legs carry her, weaving between trees, her heavy breathing echoing through her ears. She has no idea where she's going, having no sense of direction as runs through the lightless forest.

She can hear Professor Snape calling her, penetrating the heavy stillness of the night. His voice sounds desperate and worried, it reminds her of her father calling out for her that one time, long ago that she managed to get separated from her parents at the Quidditch World Cup.

A pang of guilt knots in her chest and she almost stops, almost turning back to the professor whom she's always had a fondness for.

Professor Snape had been a sort of father figure to her in the absence of her parents at Hogwarts. He looked after her in school, comforting her when she was a child and her classmates made fun of her.

She'd gone crying to Snape a number of times in her first three years of school, until he taught her to grow some back bone and quit caring so much what others thought of her. He'd convinced her somehow that she was a brilliant, bright witch, although she had no confidence in herself, and that her peers were envious of her talent. He pushed her to keep working hard at school, focus on her studies, and lose herself in books to escape from the classmates whom mocked her. He even confided once that he too was bullied in school. 'How could such a great, talented wizard such as Professor Snape be the victim of bullies?' She had thought back then, and assumed he had just made it up so she wouldn't feel so alone.

Those first few years entering puberty were tough. Darcey was a lanky girl with an untamed mane of hair unlike the neat, sculpted hair of her peers. She was too timid, too kind, too smart, and naïve. At first she resented the sorting hat placing her in Slytherin, she felt like an outsider and was convinced she should have been placed in Ravenclaw instead, but she had wanted to be with her sister.

Darcey was a shy, reserved girl and had once been inseparable from Tracey. So when Tracey was sent to Slytherin, Darcey followed her companion.

'_Now look at me. I belong here. I betray Harry Potter, my brother, the only one capable of stopping the Dark Lord. I betray him and I might be the death of him, if not the death of someone else. All this time I've looked down upon Draco for being a Death Eater. What a hypocrite I was, for I'm no better than him, in fact I'm worse.' _

Darcey keeps blindly running through the darkness and it's a miracle she hasn't tripped over herself yet. Her breathing is ragged and her lungs feel as if they're on fire, the icy air ripping through her body.

'_Did Dumbledore know about the prophecy? Has he been keeping it from me? Is that why I've always sensed he disliked me, because he knew what I was destined to become, a monster?'_

Darcey's legs pound against the ground, her muscles burning, screaming at her to stop and take a break but she doesn't slow down. She needs to keep running. Fleeing from the centaur and his prophecy, fleeing from the Death Eater she might turn out to be, fleeing from Professor Snape shouting out for her to come back to him, fleeing from her parents and how disappointed they'll be, fleeing from Harry and how much more he'll despise her than he already does now, and finally, fleeing from _herself._

Wanting never again to look in the mirror, knowing now what she's destined to become and loathing herself for it.

What would her parents say if they could see her now? James and Lily, they'd be devastated. They'd hate her, wish she'd never been born. She's an abomination.

_'I'm the bad seed, the evil twin.' _Darcey sobs, her heart clenched tightly within her chest. Darcey lets out a dry heave finally stopping, unable to run any longer. She's exhausted, her entire body is on fire, and she feels dizzy as if everything around her is spinning out of control like she's apparating.

She's hunched over, hands on her knees letting out choked sobs, not giving a damn who sees her. She cries, hot tears streaming down her face and mixing with the dirt and sweat. She collapses, falling to the ground, the earth freezing cold beneath her knees.

Footsteps approach her for someone had been running after her, chasing her.

A pair of strong arms snake themselves around her from behind, the illuminated doe encircling them, it's light penetrating the barrier of darkness around them.

Snape holds onto Darcey as she sobs in his arms, rocking with her. He hugs her tightly, protectively like a parent would when comforting a child who just woke up from a nightmare. Except Darcey's entering a nightmare, not waking up from it.

"_Shh it's okay…"_ Snape whispers from behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder. His low voice is comforting to Darcey, it's familiar in this sea of chaos.

_"Do you hate me?" _Darcey sobs, craning her neck to look up at him with wide, watery eyes.

"_No. I could never hate you, child. You're like my own." _Snape's confesses, his voice cracking.

"_What's wrong with me?"_ Darcey asks, wiping away her tears and trying desperately to regain control of her emotions.

She pivots to face him, both kneeling in front of the other with the patronus still radiating light and warmth upon them.

_"Nothing's wrong with you Darcey. You're just trying to survive, like I." _Snape says softly, brushing a lose stand of hair from her cerulean eyes.

"What do you mean?" Darcey asks confused.

"You'll understand one day, just as you'll understand and accept yourself and what you've done to protect those you love. No matter what happens from here, don't forget to love. Love will keep you from losing sight of yourself. Love is the only thing separating monster from man." Snape says, glancing over at the illuminated doe protecting them.

"I share a patronus with someone I love dearly. Everything I have ever done has been either for her or for her memory now, for she is deceased." Snape looks back to Darcey, her blue eyes meeting his coal black ones, glistening with sorrow and pain.

"I still think of her every single day." Snape extends his arm as he speaks and the doe steps closer, brushing against the palm of his pale hand.

"It serves as a reminder not to lose myself in the darkness, for she is my light and as for I, love will guide you down the right path.."

* * *

Darcey stirs waking from her slumber. She takes in her surroundings remembering the events of last night and Snape dropping her off at the Hospital Wing.

She sits up cautiously, her chest aching at the movement.

"Careful now, don't want to re-open the wounds, took me half the night to mend them." The nurse, whom Darcey had last time, appears beside her, setting on her lap a tray of hot breakfast and a goblet of pumpkin juice. The elderly nurse with kind blue eyes smiles warmly down at her, offering her a vile of mystery elixir.

"Drink up, it'll help fight off infection. Word is, you've been scratched by a wolf, and Merlin only knows what those filthy claws have dug into." The healer wrinkles her nose in disgust and Darcey obediently downs the liquid, nearly gagging at the foul taste.

"Have I had any visitors?" Darcey asks, her voice still raspy from sleep.

"Mr. Malfoy wanted to stay the night with you but I insisted he return to the dungeons and get a proper nights rest. I assured him he could come by to visit you in the morning."

Just then the entrance to the infirmary, a set of ornate double doors, swings open, revealing Draco and a still recovering Tracey entering the room. Tracey still sporting her wrappings, now with a black rose pinned to the cloth to make it look a little less ugly.

"_Darcey!_" Tracey shrieks, clamping a small hand over her mouth.

"_Merlin you look awful! You're pale as the Bloody Baron."_ Tracey immediately observes, setting down a vase filled with lavender, daisies and petunias. "Brought you flowers, I know you like the scent of lavender. Charmed them myself this morning." Tracey proudly boasts, sitting on the space on the bed near her sister's feet.

_"Thank you, they're lovely." _Darcey croaks, coughing into her sleeve before taking a sip of pumpkin juice to ease the dryness in her throat.

_"Hello Draco." _Darcey greets when she's finished, her tone much less froggy.

Malfoy stands a few feet behind Tracey, looking stiff and uncomfortable. "Come here." Darcey playfully demands, gesturing to the chair next to her.

Draco sits down, his face stony and serious, the prophecy from the night before still repeating his head. He has so much he wishes to talk to her about but can't with Darcey's sister present, since she has no clue what's going on.

"I caught this one outside the door." Tracey nods with a teasing grin at Malfoy.

"_Hadn't realized you two were such close friends_." Tracey slyly winks from an angle that Draco can't catch her, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Yeah I suppose a near death encounter with a wolf is one way to bond." Darcey smiles sheepishly, glancing over at Draco from the corner of her eye.

The blond looks just as ill as Darcey, dark circles enhance the grayness of his eyes and his face looks haunted, aged with stress.

"_Do you mind if Draco and I have a word alone?"_ Darcey suggests softly, hoping her sister doesn't assume the wrong idea.

"But of course." Tracey beams, looking extremely happy for her sister and at the possibility of Draco being her first mate. "I'll stop back during lunch."

Darcey's eyes trail her sister's tiny figure until she leaves the ward and then turns her gaze back on the boy sitting across from her.

"You look troubled." Darcey observes with a frown, sincerely worried for him. She wonders what Voldemort has him doing.

"_I am."_ Draco admits, leaning in closer to ensure that nobody can overhear them. "_The prophecy, I've been trying to decipher it all night_." Says Draco.

"I honestly don't want to think about that right now. I just woke up." Darcey frowns, looking down at her pale, clasped hands and trying to stop her mind from turning dark.

"_Well you have to think about it soon, you can't just avoid it forever. Do you even know what it all means?"_ Draco asks gravely.

"_I have an idea."_ Darcey sighs, running her fingers through her knotted hair. "_I think I eventually join him, You-Know-Who."_

"Is that what you're going to do then?" Draco confirms looking surprised that Darcey would willingly choose to do what he'd done over the summer.

"It seems I have to, right? It's a prophecy. It predicts that-" Darcey begins only to be interrupted by her class mate.

_"I told you before, I don't believe in that rubbish._" Says Draco firmly, his mouth forming a thin, hard line. "_I believe we control our own destinies. So if you don't want to do this-"_

"_I have to do this."_ Darcey hisses, her tone pleading. "I'm _meant _to do this."

"Trust me Davis, It's not all it's cracked up to be. It's not as glorious-" Draco's interrupted again by Darcey nearly shouting at him.

"GLORIOUS? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK-"

_"Keep your voice down."_ Draco hisses, reaching out to cup his hand over her mouth. He pulls away once she's calmed down.

"_I'm not an idiot like you wealthy, pureblood prats. I know exactly what it is to be a Death Eater, my Father is the warden of Azkaban, might I remind you_." Darcey replies arrogantly.

"Still, you don't know what you're getting into." Draco warns, his pale, gray eyes glistening with concern.

"Since when do you give a damn anyway? Like I'm suppose to believe that after the fight last week and everything that's happened last night that we're suddenly the best of friends?" Darcey hisses, with narrowed, angry blue eyes.

A thick silence hangs over them as their eyes lock in a steely, hard stare. After a long moment Draco finally responds.

"_Yes."_ He hisses.

"Yes what?" Darcey demands haughtily.

_"Yes Darcey, I consider you my friend..." _


	10. Chapter 10: Slug Club Christmas Party

It's been over two month since Darcey was told of her prophecy by a centaur during her detention in the Forbidden Forest.

Today is Wednesday, December 22nd the last day of classes before the 5-day holiday break.

Scotland faces one of the most ruthless winters in history. Since November snow and blistering winds are a daily occurrence. With the temperature reaching tundra levels, making Hogwarts feel as if it's facing an ice age.

The oddest thing about the weather is that the normally dry winter air hasn't lost its summer humidity, causing icy sleet to rain upon the castle, melting against the warm windows.

Though brutal, from the inside looking out it looks like a scenic winter wonderland. The grounds are covered in deep, fluffy, white snow that sparkles like diamonds in the sunset.

Darcey packs away the last of her belongings inside her trunk, preparing for the journey back home tomorrow.

Glancing at the clock she remember the Slug Club Christmas party is in two hours and she has one more thing to do before she gets ready. She needs to find Draco.

Her friendship with Draco thus far has been a shallow one, barely deeper than the friendship she's formed with her dorm mates, the only difference being he knows more about her. Yet she knows hardly anything of him.

Since he declared them friends after the wolf attack, to which she has a set of claw-like scars, Draco and Darcey began spending more time together. Draco chose to spend his time with Darcey because she was the only student in Hogwarts who knew for certain his secret of being a Death Eater and didn't constantly question if he was ill, like Pansy did. Even Zabini had pestered him a few times about his lack of color and the dark rings encircling his eyes, suggesting that he seek Snape out for a sleeping draught to help.

Darcey on the other hand, simply chose to hang out with Draco because she enjoyed his company over her chatty dorm mates, whom she found she could only tolerate a set amount of time with. Draco was mostly quiet like herself, at least while they did their school work together, which was the only time they spent in each other's company outside of classes.

Darcey was pleased with her accomplishment to persuade Draco to complete his schoolwork, convincing him that it was easier to do it than spending every weekend in detention.

Darcey searches the common room for her friend to no avail, feeling irritated at the thought of wondering aimlessly around the castle looking for him. There must be an easier way. Perhaps somebody has seen him and knows where he is.

She approaches the two burly boys lounging on a set of black leather couches near the fireplace.

Vincent Crabbe, a boy as round as he is tall with a buzz cut, chuckles at something amusing the other boy has said.

Gregory Goyle, the taller of the two lads with baby fat still clinging to his cheeks glances up at the girl approaching them, his eyes still squinted from laughter.

"_Hey_." Darcey greets, standing between them. Her blue eyes lock with Goyle's brown ones from below her. "Have either of you seen Draco lately? I really need to speak to him." Darcey asks nicely, hoping that if she's charming they'll tell her where he is.

"He's around." Crabbe supplies vaguely, with a shrug.

"Should be back soon." Goyle finishes, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. It's clear neither of the trolls are prepared to tell her anything they know about Draco's whereabouts.

"_Thanks guys._" Darcey deadpans, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at how extremely _helpful _they've been, insert sarcasm.

Just then the boy she's searching for enters the room, strutting across the common room without so much as a glance around. Darcey rushes to catch him at the base of the dormitory stairs.

"I've been looking for you, do you have a moment? It's really important." Darcey pleads, looking up at him.

Draco hesitates looking between Darcey and the top of the steps, it's clear he had something else he was going to do and she hopes it wasn't too important.

"_I suppose I have a while."_ Draco finally replies coolly, granting her his time.

"_Wonderful! Let's go."_ Darcey beams, yanking his arm for him to follow her. She leads him from the common room and to the stony, windowless corridor outside.

Darcey pulls him into a secluded alcove near a statue of an unfriendly looking Salazar Slytherin, the founding father of their house, who was a rather foul bloke.

Darcey cups her hand around Draco's ear as she leans up to whisper to him, not taking the chance of anyone overhearing what they're up to. When she pulls away he seems reluctant to assist her, showing no sign of compliance.

"Please Draco, this is really important to me. I wouldn't ask you for help if it wasn't." Darcey says quietly, putting all her hope in the boy, because if he refused to help her she had nobody else to go to.

* * *

Darcey peers around the potions cupboard no bigger than a broom closet, it's top to bottom shelves cluttered with dusty phials of various potions.

She scans the nametag tied around the neck of every colorless bottle she can find, so far to no avail. The mission is taking longer than anticipated and Slughorn will be back at any second, Draco's distraction only bought her a small amount of time to get what she needed.

Finally she comes across a clear potion in a bottle marked '_Veritaserum_'. She snatches it, pulling out her wand and touching the tip to the glass bottle. '_Geminio_' She performs the spell silently, copying an exact replica of the potion and placing it back upon the shelf. Of course, the twin serum was just a visual replica and wouldn't actually work if Slughorn used it, but Darcey doubted the old professor would need a truth serum highly regulated by the Ministry of Magic anytime soon and she was certain she could return it before it'd be missed.

Darcey peaks her head out the door to check the coast is clear and to her horror spots Slughorn wobbling down the corridor towards the classroom, his round belly causing him to resemble a waddling penguin as he walks.

Darcey moves to the side, pressing herself against a bookcase near the door. Maybe if she tries hard enough to blend in he won't notice her presence.

Slughorn crosses the threshold, whistling an upbeat tune when his blue eyes suddenly catch Darcey's figure trying to slip out the doorway.

"Miss Davis, what are you doing in here?" Slughorn asks in confusion, tilting his head to the side.

"_Erm-_" Darcey stutters, her mind frantically searching for a reasonable explanation.

"_Thank you again for your help, sir_." Draco interrupts, appearing in the doorway. A charming smile lights up his face, making him look much healthier without his constant scowl.

"No problem at all dear boy." Slughorn grins, waving him away with his chubby hand. "Now if you'll excuse me, I was just about to hear what Miss Davis was doing in my office." Slughorn says curiously, still not sounding the least bit angry with her.

"I heard a vampire would be here- erm, at the party tonight, _a vampire_." Darcey blurts out the only thing she can think of, thankful she paid attention to Daphne and Tracey's gossip at breakfast this morning.

"_Ah, yes. Worple and Sanguini will be attending. From whom did you hear that Miss Davis?_" Slughorn asks, his tone friendly.

"_Some of the girls, sir. We've all been a little star-struck. I hear he's quite handsome."_ Darcey replies sheepishly, her face heating up in embarrassment. Darcey is mortified she had chosen such a ridiculous lie. She'd never in her right mind be foolish enough to go drooling over a _vampire_. They're terrifying and highly dangerous creatures, you couldn't even pay her to be within a 50-foot radius of one and to her horror, the rumors were true, there would be a vampire attending the Christmas Party tonight.

'_Is Slughorn out of his mind bringing a vampire into the school around a bunch of love struck, horny teenage girls? Surely someone will get bitten.' _Darcey seriously questions her professor's judgment.

"You see," Darcey continues. "I was hoping I could get a look at him before the party, maybe talk to him. I find vampires to be extremely fascinating beings." Darcey lies, feeling as if she needs to vomit.

"_No, sorry dear. You'll have to wait until this evening to see him. I'll be sure to introduce you though."_ Slughorn beams. "_Now if you don't mind, there's a lot of work to be done here, I'll see you tonight Miss Davis._" Slughorn leads the pair of Slytherin's out the door. "_Mr. Malfoy_." Slughorn nods in acknowledgement to the blond as he dismisses them.

Once they're out of earshot Draco erupts in laughter, his gray eyes squinting in amusement as he peers over at the still blushing girl.

"_For Merlin's sake, please tell me that was a lie. You're not really gushing over a vampire are you, Davis?"_ Draco snickers, holding up both his pointer fingers to his mouth like a set of vampire teeth and lunging playfully for her neck, pretending to take a bite.

Darcey lightly shoves him away, laughing along with him. When she finally catches her breath she responds. "_No, of course not. I'm not an idiot."_ Darcey defends.

"_I don't know_." Draco begins, recomposing himself to sound serious. "_You do seem to fancy tall, pale, men with shadowy eyes. I mean, that would explain why you're so taken with me…_" Says Draco smugly, with an arrogant smirk.

Darcey shoves him again in the arm, looking appalled. "_Are you barking mad? What gave you the impression that I'm taken with you, Malfoy?"_ Darcey demands, feigning insult.

"You're always following me around like a lost puppy. We can't go a few hours without seeing each other before you frantically go in search of me." Draco teases, still smirking down at her.

Darcey's mouth gapes open, she's truly shocked by his words and wondering if he really feels that way.

Has she been giving off the impression that she's lost without him? That he's her _only f_riend. She thinks back to the past couple months and realizes she _has_ been a bit clingy, but only because he's currently the only person she can tolerate being around all day. Perhaps she should put some distance between them, before he gets the wrong idea.

'_Too late, he already thinks you have a silly school girl crush on him._' Darcey mentally groans.

'Maybe because you _do_ have a silly school girl crush on him…' Another voice in her mind observes, the voice reminds her of Tracey and she can practically see her winking at her from inside her head.

Darcey remembers reading somewhere that the first sign of insanity is talking to yourself, and although not out loud, Darcey's pretty certain conversations with yourself in your head isn't very promising.

"I suppose I've been up your ass a lot lately. Sorry about that." Darcey gives him a sheepish apology.

"_I'm not objecting. I've had worse company_." Draco admits, as Darcey punches him for the third time.

"_Stop saying rude things_." Darcey scolds, casting him a glare.

"_Calm yourself Davis. I'm only getting your knickers in a twist."_ Draco reassures her smoothly, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him so they're now walking side by side.

Darcey doesn't want to admit to herself how good Draco's embrace feels. It feels so natural being this close to him, which is a bit frightening for Darcey considering she hasn't any experience in the boyfriend department, not that Draco's her boyfriend, it's just that, shouldn't it feel more foreign and awkward being this close to him? She wonders, and before she can over think it, like she does _everything,_ Draco pulls back his arm from her and Darcey is made aware that they've made it back to the common room.

"In case I don't see you later, have a good holiday." Darcey bids him farewell, smiling warmly at her friend.

"_You too_." Draco replies stiffly, his carefree mood from moments before suddenly vanishing and a somber, serious one masking it.

Darcey casts him one last look, her blue eyes glistening with concern as she gazes softly over at him. She realizes she hardly remembers what his normal complexion looks like, having become used to seeing him like this, stressed out and sickly in appearance. She wonders if it weren't for the morbid circumstances drawing them together, would they have ever been friends to begin with?

Probably not, Darcey decides, remember what a prick use to be. The old Draco Malfoy was an arrogant, immature, bully, someone Darcey honestly couldn't see herself ever befriending unless he matured. Becoming a Death Eater had aged Draco, he was still that arrogant, stuck-up prick underneath, but that side of him emerged now in much more tolerable doses than before.

He seemed more down to earth too; capable of having an actual, deep conversation with, where as before he was superficial and only capable of witty banter.

Everything in life was a joke to him, something to poke fun at and laugh about. He put on a mask of confident superiority that prevented anyone from ever getting close to him.

Although, Darcey still knew hardly anything about him, finding it difficult to break through his cold, aloof shell. She knew him enough to decide that she liked him. He was now somebody to whom she could call a friend. Which spoke volumes, as she was extremely selective with the friends she kept, hence why she had hardly any.

Darcey looks at the clock, realizing her mission with Draco took longer than planned and Slughorn's party is in half an hour. Bounding up the steps two at a time, Darcey rushes to take a shower and change.

* * *

Crimson, emerald, and gold sheer curtains adorn Slughorn's office, giving it a tent-like quality, except much more sophisticated than camping outdoors. It seems he's used an Undetectable Extension Charm to make the room larger, it's now half the size of the Great Hall, which is impressive.

The party is packed to the brim with witches and wizards, mostly older, notable folks whom Professor Slughorn has invited to come, some of which were previous students of his. Mixed in with the adults are the most modern collection of students to join the Slug Club, and their dates.

Bringing a date was required of them, something that mortified Darcey. It had been so embarrassing when she had to approach some random boy and ask them to be her date. She wasn't going to ask Draco; afraid it would be too obvious and assuming he'd decline the invitation anyway, being too occupied with Death Eater activities and all.

The next obvious choice would have been Blaise Zabini, but being a handsome and popular lad, he of course already had a date, his girlfriend Daphne Greengrass.

Her third choice would have been Theodore Nott but Tracey would never let her live it down if she brought him, convinced she was still in love with him.

The rest of the Slytherin male population were intimidating fellows, and Darcey was a quiet girl who'd rather not be publically humiliated when they'd reject her offer, so she decided to go with an easier target.

To her dorm mates horror, Darcey had asked Hufflepuff sixth year, Zacharius Smith to accompany her this evening, after having talked to him once at The Three Broomstick's pub while under Draco's Imperius curse.

Not the most thought out option, but indeed and easy one. She had gotten hell from her classmates for the entire week leading up to the party but she felt confident with her decision. Zach was a very nice guy and was either too scared or hadn't the heart to reject her.

"Thanks again for coming." Darcey offers, awkwardly rubbing her arm, feeling extremely uncomfortable. They were strangers and not even in the same house, what was she thinking? What could they possibly have to talk about?

Zach is dressed in a set of handsome, black dress robes, with a silvery gray vest and bowtie underneath. His fluffy, golden hair, that usually hangs in his eyes has been slicked back for the occasion, showing off his best features like his prominent, square jawbone and dark blue eyes that reminded Darcey of the ocean.

Darcey decided to go with a silver strapless, silk gown that clung to her in just the right places, accentuating her figure without revealing too much. The dress showed a modest amount of cleavage and was ankle length. The only skin exposed was her back where the gown dipped in a low V, exposing her shoulder blades and lower back.

Darcey had allowed Tracey to assist her with her hair, without using magic of course. Her hair was still curly, only now it was pulled into an almost elegant updo; a few lose curls framing her face. Tracey did her makeup, giving her a smoky eye look that make her eyes appear stormy blue, darker than usual.

For the first time in a while Darcey actually felt confident in her skin, when she put this much effort into her appearance she was quite beautiful, but it wasn't something she was willing to put time into everyday, it just seemed like such a waste of time.

A house elf scurries past her, carrying slender, glasses of champagne. Darcey grabs two, offering one to her date as well, who she's sure is feeling just as out of place as she is at the party. Both students take a long sip, but as Zach pulls away from his glass, Darcey continues, quickly chugging hers.

When she's finishes the entire glass she wipes the corner of her mouth clean before she casts her date a cheeky grin, having noticed him watching her in amusement.

"I like a woman who can handle her liquor." Zach smiles. "Seems I have some competition tonight." He says, turning the glass to his lips as he chugs the rest of his.

"I'm not normally much of a drinker, I just need a bit of help tonight. I'm a nervous wreck. I'm hoping a few drinks will help me to relax." Darcey explains, glancing with her stomach in an anxious knot at the crowded room.

"Not much of a socialite then?" Zach asks lightly, doing his best to make his date feel at ease. Zacharius Smith was raised to be a gentleman, and what sort of gentleman would he be if he allowed his date to have a lousy time tonight.

"Not at all." Darcey laughs. "Seriously, I'll be the crazy gnome lady who everyone will keep assuming dead because nobodies ever seen her leave her house." Darcey jokes, half-truthfully.

Zach gives a warm, hearty laugh. "Come on, Davis. You can't possibly be that reclusive."

"Oh, but I am." Darcey admits with a grin. "What's your weakness?" Darcey wonders, already feeling the effects of one drink, it's suddenly much easier for her to have a conversation as her anxiety fades away.

"I suppose I'm a tad bit competitive." Zach offers up.

"That's not so bad." Darcey shrugs.

"Okay, I bluffed, I'm _really c_ompetitive, as in I go mad when I lose at something. You should see me throw a fit when we blow a Quidditch match. It's quite scary." Zach admits with a sheepish grin.

"Let's have ourselves a competition then!" Darcey suggests excitedly, having a competitive streak herself, though all Slytherins are competitive by nature, it comes hand in hand with being ambitious.

"What did you have in mind, love?" Zach flirts. Obviously the champagne has had some effect on the boy as he gains confidence.

"Let's see who can have the most fun tonight. Let's make the most of this awful party." Darcey suggests, swapping another set of champagne glasses with their two empty ones off the tray of a nearby house elf.

"To lame supper parties." Darcey raises her glass to Zach.

"To lame supper parties." He agrees as they clink their glasses together with a toast.

Once more they chug the clear, bubbly liquid, this time Zach winning.

Just then a pair of chubby arms scoop them up, snaking around each of the student's shoulders and leading them deeper within the crowd. "Glad you could make it Miss Davis, and Mr. Smith, I know your mother, she's tailored all my robes." Professor Slughorn beams.

"As promised, I'd like to introduce you to Sanguini." Says Slughorm, stopping in front of a tall, lanky, emaciated man with coal black hair and dark rings around his eyes. He's wearing a black and white striped tuxedo, with a chain linking the two pockets together at his breastbone.

He glances down at Darcey behind a large, hooked nose and she notices although his skin is colorless and gray his lips are rosy, as if stained from all the blood he's consumed.

Darcey shivers, her stomach clenching in a mix of revulsion and fear. She been frightened of vampires since she was a small child.

"This lovely young lady is Darcey Davis, an exceptional student of mine." Professor Slughorn introduces the two to each other, Sanguini eyes locked hungrily on her exposed neck.

"Here, m'boy, have a pasty." Slughorn offers with a nervous chuckle, catching the look he's giving his student and handing him something less human to keep him occupied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Darcey forces a small, polite smile as she feels Zacharius stiffen beside her. Sensing he's just as terrified as she is, she makes up an excuse to get them both far away from Sanguini.

"Sorry to greet and run but I saw my friend Daphne over there." Darcey points to a random spot in the crowd of dancing couples. "And I'd like to introduce her to my date." Darcey politely dismisses herself from her teacher, leading Zach away into the party.

"I've never met a vampire before." Zach says once they're out of earshot and Darcey notices how suddenly pale he's become.

"Disgusting creatures." Darcey mutters, crinkling her nose as if she's just encountered a foul smell.

"I whole-heartedly agree." Zach says glancing behind his shoulder to ensure the vampire hadn't been following them.

Three drinks and an hour later, Darcey and Zacharius find themselves heavily intoxicated. The pair of teenagers are sprawled out on the floor in a secluded corner behind the buffet table, a layer of sheer crimson curtains concealing them from view.

Darcey is currently giggling at something hilarious Zach has just said about Slughorn resembling a giant olive in his green dress robes.

Darcey takes a bite out of a vanilla cupcake she's snatched from the nearby desert table.

"_Mmm this is wicked. Taste some."_ Darcey demands, shoving the half eaten cupcake into her dates face. He opens his mouth enthusiastically like a baby bird being fed a worm and Darcey pressed the entire cupcake into his mouth.

"That _is_ delicious. Let's get more." Zach happily suggests, getting up to stand but feeling dizzy with the sudden movement. He falls ungracefully back on his ass causing both teenagers to erupt in giggles.

"_Merlin you're drunk_." Darcey observes with an amused grin.

"_Merlin I'm drunk_." Zach fully agrees.

"_You've got a little-"_ Zach begins, pointing to the corner of Darcey's mouth.

"_Hmph?_" Darcey asks, slapping at her face in an attempt to wipe the food away.

"You got it." Says Zach, moving his oceanic gaze from her equally blue eyes to her lips.

"Would you slap me if I kissed you?" Zach mumbles in a husky tone that makes Darcey's stomach twitch. She's never had a boy talk to her in such a needy way, like they found her irresistible.

"Depends if you're any good at snogging." Darcey teases with a cheeky grin that Zach returns.

Leaning in, he closes the gap between them, his warm lips pressing gently against hers. She moves her hand to rest on the nape of his neck as she timidly deepens the kiss. The handsome Hufflepuff boy tastes of butter cream frosting and this causes Darcey to smirk.

When they pull apart for air, Darcey notices how dark his eyes have become, glistening with lust. "_You taste good_." Zach slurs before coming in for another kiss. The kisses are messy and wet, both too drunk to control themselves, but Darcey isn't complaining. It's a good enough first kiss and she's having fun, so she doesn't care that it's sloppy. Zach groans into the kiss, clutching her closer to him and Darcey feels a warm hand slipping up her gown and stopping at her upper thigh where it gives a light squeeze. Darcey seems to come to her senses, a rational part of her screaming at her to stop before this becomes a night she regrets. She pushes Zach gently away, casting him an apologetic look.

"_Sorry, I'm not that easy."_ Darcey supplies, fumbling to stand, she grips the wall for support as she sways. Zacharius stands up too, looking horrified and worried that he's upset her.

"_I didn't mean to push you. Things just got carried away. I hope I didn't offend you."_ The blond apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not offended. Just have to pee. Excuse me." Darcey manages, brushing past him and out into the lively party. Suddenly Filch, the Squib caretaker, bursts through the door clutching Malfoy by his collar. All eyes of the party fall on him as Filch's lips curl into a mocking smile.

"_Caught this one lurking about in the upstairs corridor, says he was invited to your Christmas party. Is this true?"_ Filch asks, his eyes glistening with delight at the idea of catching a student out of bed past curfew.

"_Okay, I was gate crashing, happy?"_ Draco sneers, struggling against the man. "_Let go of me you filthy Squib!_" He growls, finally ripping himself from the Squib's claw-like hand.

"_He's my date!"_ Darcey blurts out from within the crowd of people, pushing her way up front to get closer to Draco.

"I thought you arrived with Mr. Smith?" Slughorn asks with a hiccup, it's apparent he too has had a bit too much to drink.

_"I did, after Draco and I had a row early today, but Draco was my original date and I told him if he changed his mind and realized he was being a wanker to come and find me here."_ Darcey lies, stepping forward and hooking her arm with Draco's.

"_Perfect timing,_ _I was just leaving, wonderful party, sir. Happy Christmas!"_ Darcey bids her professor farewell before leading Draco from the office and into the deserted corridor outside. Together they walk the short distance to the common room.

"_Are you drunk?"_ Draco asks once they're in the deserted, dimly lit common room, having smelt liquor on her breath.

"_Yes._" Darcey answers honestly with a giggle, knowing she doesn't need to lie to him.

Darcey collapses in a heap near the fireplace, fumbling for her wand that's holstered to her leg, not realizing she's exposing a lot of skin in the process as she hikes up her gown. Draco reaches out to stop her, snatching the wand easily from her grip. "_Hey! Give it back!_" Darcey whines.

"_You're not using magic in the state you're in._" Draco says firmly, sounding very parental. He safely stows away the wand in the pocket of his blazer before lighting the fire himself. He comes to sit above her on the end of one of the black, leather couches, watching closely as Darcey gazes into the fire, a giddy smile plastered to her face.

"What's got you in such a pleasant mood?" Draco demands with the raise of his brow.

"I had my first kiss tonight." Darcey says dreamily, shifting herself so that she's kneeling before him.

"_Is that so?_" Draco sneers. "_By whom?"_ He demands, not bothering to hide the jealousy in his tone.

"I can't remember." Darcey frowns, her eyebrows furrowing together as she tries to remember.

Draco leans back, looking satisfied. "_Must have been a lousy kiss then_." Draco smirks.

"_Yeah it kind of was…"_ Darcey frowns, her previous excitement gone out the door.

Darcey stifles a yawn before curling up on the couch with Draco, leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder. He doesn't object to being used as a pillow, as they both silently gaze into the fire, enjoying the warmth radiating from their shared body heat.

Darcey's eyelids feel heavy and droopy and she finally gives in and closes her eyes, feeling so comfortable that she begins to fall asleep.

Draco glances at the clock as it strikes midnight and a series of low chimes fill the deserted common room, echoing off the stone dungeon walls.

Draco peers down at his arm that Darcey's clutching with both hands, noticing one of her hands rests directly over his dark mark.

His mind turns dark, his lips forming a thin, hard line as he recalls the excruciating ritual. Feeling exhausted, Draco rests his head atop of Darcey's and closes his eyes, letting out a deep, contented sigh.

He shouldn't be getting so cozy with Potter's sister. He knows this. The girl's doomed to die at any moment, as soon as the Dark Lord discovers who she is. It'd be stupid to get close to her, to care about her. Even befriending her is a risk. She's a ticking time bomb with a small amount of time to live before she self-destructs. _He knows this, so why can't he untangle himself from the warm girl next to him? Why does she feel so good?_


	11. Chapter 11: Avada Kedavra

Albus Dumbledore gazes out the window of his oval office. His blue eyes trail the fluffy, white snowflakes melting against the windowpane. The elderly wizard subconsciously strokes with his good hand his coal black, shriveled cursed hand, a constant reminder that he's not immortal. He hasn't much longer to live and there's still so much that has to be done, plans set into motion.

"_I'm afraid the time has come Severus."_ The sorcerer says gravely, still gazing out the window and serenely accepts that these are the final days of his life.

"_On Christmas Eve, sir? Surely it can wait_-" Snape's low voice points out from somewhere behind him as he turns to face his college, whose ebony eyes reflect in them pain and sorrow.

"We've hesitated too long already, like you said, the Dark Lord has grown weary of you, uncertain of where your loyalty lies." Dumbledore frowns his voice somber. "It must be today, Severus. I haven't much longer and neither do you if you lose Voldemort's trust."

Snape stays silent, steadying his raging emotions. Darcey will be devastated, but he will be there, watching over her and doing his best to ensure that no harm comes to her. Though, it's a promise he can't guarantee, he's willing to die trying. To Dumbledore sacrificing Darcey is for the greater good, in his eyes it's crucial that Snape stay alive long enough to go through will killing him and doing this will prolong his life. If Voldemort begins to doubt Snape's allegiance to him, he will kill him. Giving him this information will seal his trust. The prophecy states that Harry Potter is the only one who can defeat Lord Voldemort, leaving Darcey a less valuable role in the war, but to Snape Darcey is not disposable. A part of him despises Dumbledore for cruelly keeping the Potter twins alive this long just to be slaughtered like swine. For Lily, he would do his absolute best to ensure that Darcey stay alive. He vowed to protect her, and Harry too, though he was much less fond of the chosen twin.

"_If you are sure of it."_ Snape reluctantly complies after a long moment, his expression blank and unreadable as he puts on a mask of indifference.

"_I am_." Says Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with despair. It has to be done.

* * *

The English countryside is cloaked in a fresh layer of snow. Icy sleet falls from the overcast, gray December sky, making it a dreary morning.

The Davis home is a large, two-story, colonial brick house with four white roman pillars that align the front porch framing the entryway.

Perched atop a snowy hill, the winding cobblestone driveway covered in slush, is aligned with perfectly trimmed snowy hedges leading up to the cozy and inviting home.

A live Christmas tree adorned with a string of white lights, ornate bulbs and golden tinsel can be seen through the window of the living room.

Tracey and Darcey use the floo network to travel home for the holidays, dragging with them their bulky trunks as they emerge from a grand stone fireplace in the living room and are met with festive Christmas décor.

From the moment Darcey steps out of the fireplace she's met with her mother pulling her in for a tight, long hug.

Darcey can smell the floral perfume she wears clinging to her turtleneck sweater, a familiar and comforting scent that she associates with security.

"_Merry Christmas mum_." Darcey smiles into her mother's shoulder. She spots Roger in doorway of the kitchen, clutching a tray of fresh baked sugar cookies. The house smells heavenly.

Darcey's mother finally ends the embrace, holding her out at shoulder length to inspect her for good health.

"I think you've grown taller." She jokes, stroking the back of Darcey's hair in a loving gesture.

"_Hey dad."_ Darcey greets her father next, pulling him in for a hug. _"Happy Christmas darling."_ Her father's low voice greets from above and Darcey has to tilt her head to peer at him. He's a rather tall wizard, being six foot three to Darcey's five foot seven. Growing up their mother would always tease that he was part troll, to which he'd reply that she was part pixie.

"Just in time for cookies." Roger declares as Tracey skips forward to eagerly snatch one up. "_Ouch!_ _Hot, hot, hot!" _She mutters, sticking out her tongue and fanning it off with a flailing hand.

_"You see what mum has me doing." _Roger greets Darcey as she comes nearer to her siblings._ "Slaving away in the kitchen all morning like some common house elf." _Roger grumbles in good nature.

_"You poor dear." _Darcey mocks, clutching a hand over her chest dramatically. "_Here, your master presents you with an article of clothing, you're a free elf now_." Darcey grins, placing her knitted beret atop her brother's mop of dark curly hair.

"Hear that mum?" Roger yells from the kitchen. "I'm a free elf now!"

"I hear you!" Their mother calls back from the living room. "_Now be a dear and fetch your father and I some eggnog will you, please?"_ Their mother adds sweetly.

"_Make the girls do something, they're home now. Besides isn't it a bit early for eggnog?"_ Roger taunts, setting down the tray of hot cookies and disappearing upstairs.

_"_Where are you off to in such a rush, son?"Their father yells after him with no response.

"_He's probably off owling his girlfriend, word is he bought her jewelry, expensive too and goblin made_." Supplies Tracey. The girl has a knack for knowing everybody's business that Darcey found both annoying and impressive.

"You girls want some eggnog?" Their mother interrupts, appearing beside them. "I could go for some eggnog with a sprinkle of nutmeg." She decides, pulling the holiday drink from the fridge along with some vodka meant only for the adults. "Sit down and rest, you've just come home for Merlin sake." She adds, shooing Darcey away after seeing her fetch the crystal mugs from the cupboard.

"I'm going upstairs to unpack first." Tracey dismisses herself, leaving their parents and Darcey alone together.

"_Sit down mum, I've got it. Let me help_." Darcey argues smoothly, prying the carton of eggnog from her mother's hand and persuading her to rejoin their father in the living room.

Once she's certain she's alone, Darcey slips the small phial of Veritaserum from her coat pocket, carefully tipping three drops into the two mugs intended for her parents. The potion buys her 10 minutes of honesty per dose so she has to hurry.

Placing the tray of drinks on the coffee table between them, Darcey takes a sip of her eggnog, cupping the crystal mug with both hands while slyly peering over at her parents cuddled on the loveseat across from her.

The old record player plays holiday music in the background, interrupted occasionally by a pop of static.

Dacery scans the room admiring the festive décor. Garland hangs on the mantle of the fireplace, sparkling with gold fairy dust. The Christmas tree stands tall in the center of the window behind her parents, glowing with soft white lights and decorated in elegant scarlet and gold bulbs. A silvery star tops off the tree enchanted to twinkle and dim just like the stars in the night sky. When Darcey was a little girl the star was her favorite decoration, mesmerizing her for hours as she stared at it in wonder. Her parents never told her it was charmed, instead telling the children that they had plucked it straight from the sky. '_What happens after Christmas? Does it die?'_ Darcey had asked once. '_No darling, it goes back to live up the sky until next year and then it returns to us for Christmas.' _Her mother had said.

Darcey smiles to herself at the fond memory, gazing back over at her parents. Her sister Tracey resembles their mother, Amelia, a petite woman with curled auburn hair that falls to her shoulders, her square face framed with wispy bangs that contrast against her steely, gray-blue eyes.

Roger on the other hand is the spitting image of their father, Roger Sr. a tall, muscular man with curly brown hair that reaches the bottom of his neck and a scruffy face. He shares Tracey's eyes, a syrupy brown in hue.

Darcey watches as they both sip from their mugs, a comfortable silence hangs over them as they enjoy the atmosphere and listen to the Christmas carols echoing through the room.

Darcey hesitates, almost not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment with the drama that may ensure. She planned now to extract the truth from them about her adoption, wanting to know exactly how much they knew of her birth.

She felt the only way to ensure that they were 100% honest with her was to spike their drinks with Veritaserum, a truth potion. She was sick of being lied to and kept in the dark. It was time she took control over her life, therefore she needed to find out who could and could not be trusted, starting with her family. She'd weave out the liars.

This was something Darcey had to do for herself, she needed to be certain she made the right decision in turning her back on Harry, for it was a decision she struggled with daily. She told herself she was doing it for her loved ones, these people she called her family who claimed to care about her. Question was, were they really deserving of her sacrifice? She was about to find out.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sits at the long, dark wood dining table, meant to seat twelve but currently seating two pale, lonely figures.

The mother and son peer across the length of the table at one another, over a long line of steaming hot dishes filled with smoked ham, garlic potatoes, asparagus and green beans, and a bowl of tossed salad with a vinaigrette dressing. The expensive silver utensils and crystal glasses sparkle in the low light. The curtains in the room are drawn letting no natural sunlight filter in. The only source of light comes from the grand, marble fireplace where a cozy fire crackles softly, making the cold, empty room appear a little more inviting. There aren't any Christmas decorations out this year, for the exception of the holly centerpiece on the dining table. Narcissa felt too depressed to decorate for there was nothing to celebrate.

Timid, skittish house elves silently serve them their meal, starting off with a salad and pouring each of them a goblet of wine.

"It's been terribly lonely here without you and your father around for company. I've nearly driven myself mad trying to discover new ways to occupy my time." Narcissa confesses to her only son seated before her, whom she's missed so much. "I've even taken up knitting, though I'm quite awful at it."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitches in a smirk at his mother's remark. He can't for the life of him picture his mother knitting and finds the idea quite ridiculous. He stifles the urge to laugh, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

_"How is the mission coming along, Draco?"_ She asks after a small silence hangs between them, her blue eyes glistening with concern, her baby boy looks pallid and washed out. She's worried about him, fearing for his health.

It wasn't normal for a teenager to be put under such a vast amount of stress, Narcissa decided, and she deeply resented that the Dark Lord had taken vengeance upon her family.

"_Quite well I suppose"_ Draco answers curtly, picking at the purple and green romaine lettuce on his plate with disinterest, having no appetite. He's consumed with his obsession to kill Albus Dumbledore. The clocks ticking and he's running out of time, heightening his stress.

_"Severus has told me that you've already managed to mend the vanishing cabinet. I'm so very proud of you darling."_ Narcissa smiles, her misty eyes glistening with pride.

"_I had assistance_." Draco admits with a blank expression, his gray eyes peering up at her for the first time since they've sat down for supper.

"_A friend of mine, Darcey Davis_." He adds coolly, watching her closely for a reaction, wondering if she knows anything of the girl.

"_Davis…_" Narcissa frowns, furrowing her brow in thought. "Is she related to the Warden Davis of Azkaban?" She wonders with a scowl, hating everyone responsible for her husband's imprisonment.

"Yes" Draco confirms. "That's her father."

Relief washes over him as he's now convinced that nobody else but he knows of Darcey's true identity, for if the Dark Lord knew his mother would surely know too.

"Is she a new friend of yours? Pureblood I assume?_" _Narcissa asks._ "Yes, I believe the Davis name to be pure._" She mutters the last part quietly to herself while waiting for Draco to answer the beginning of her inquiry.

"_Yes mother, I'm quite taken with her."_ Draco replies, taking note of the displeased look on his mother's pale face.

"_Stay away from her Draco."_ Narcissa warns angrily. "Her father's the Warden overseeing your father, we don't need to draw anymore attention to him and have Mr. Davis singling him out from the other prisoners."She explains, her blue eyes piercing through him, letting him know that she is to be taken seriously.

"I won't do that, she's my friend."Draco replies icily. He doesn't take orders from anyone except the Dark Lord, therefore his mother's opinion means nothing to him.

Just then a heavy thump followed by a cry for Narcissa can be heard in the entrance hall. With the squeal of her chair, Narcissa jumps to her feet, fleeing from the dining room and towards the voice of her husband.

Draco pivots in his chair with wide, surprised eyes as his father enters the room, wearing a filthy tattered, black and gray striped jumpsuit with an inmate number stitched above the left breast pocket. His face is dirt stained and sweaty and his normally elegant, smooth long hair is untamed and greasy, curling at the ends in natural waves.

A pair of narrowed, furious gray eyes land on Draco as Lucius rushes forward to grip Draco tightly by the shoulders, shaking him frantically as he speaks.

"The girl, Davis. Do you know a Davis?" He demands.

"Yes, why what's happened?" Draco asks nervously, his stomach clenched in fear. '_Does the Dark Lord know of Darcey? Is he planning to go after her?_' Draco's wonders, knowing she won't stand a chance.

"Do you know who she is? Who she _really_ is?" Lucius demands, still raging like a mad man and shaking his son.

"_No. I mean she's just Darcey Davis."_ Draco shrugs indifferently, morphing his face into a look of utter confusion in order to convince his father that he knows nothing. It's easy to pull off since it's true; he _is_ utterly confused, wondering what the hell is going on.

"_Have you ever spoken with her? Did you know that she's Harry Potter's sister_? Lucius demands, still gripping him violently.

"No_._" Draco lies, staring up at his father. Inside his stomach twists in fear.

Narcissa steps forward from the threshold of the dining room, her blue eyes darting between her husband and son. "Darling, had you not just told me a moment ago that you've befriended a witch by the name of Davis." Narcissa softly points out.

"_Don't lie to me boy! It's crucial you know nothing!"_ Lucius bellows, his hand colliding with Draco's cheek as he slaps him with full force, sending the teenager sprawled out on the ground. Draco peers up at his father with wide, fearful eyes, clutching his jaw tenderly with one hand while propelling himself backwards with the other, attempting to put as much distance between himself and his deranged father as possible.

_"Now the truth Draco_." says Lucius calmly, flicking a lock of greasy hair from his icy, gray eyes as he recomposes himself.

"_What do you know of the girl and why did she have your wand?" _He asks, pulling from his pocket his sons sleek, ebony, hawthorn and unicorn hair wand.

Draco's light eyebrows furrow as he subconsciously gropes the pocket of his trousers, feeling the long hard wand concealed beneath the fabric. It's then he remembers taking Darcey's wand from her last night when she had been intoxicated and when he returned it to her this morning he must have given her his wand by mistake. So how had his father managed to get _his_ wand if it was on Darcey? Draco realizes in horror, his stomach sinking in despair.

* * *

_"So you knew all along that I was the daughter of James and Lily Potter and you didn't tell me?" _Darcey demands, enraged._ "All these years you've lied to me. Fooled me into believing that you knew nothing of my birth parents. That I was just some random orphan."_

Darcey stands near the fireplace, her piercing blue eyes glaring down at her mother sitting on the couch, her face buried in her manicured hands as she sobs uncontrollably.

Roger Sr. stands behind her, resting a hand on each of her quaking shoulders. His brown eyes locked on Darcey's in anger.

"_Stop shouting, your making your mother cry_." Her father says firmly, his voice authoritative.

"_Oh!"_ Darcey scoffs throwing her hands up in the air. "_God forbid if mummy cries!" _She sneers._ "What about me, your daughter! What about how I feel?" _

_"Let's discuss this calmly." _Her father suggests, lowering and softening his tone.

"_I am calm!" _Darcey growls with narrowed eyes. _"Now tell me why you've kept this from me all these years? Why lie to me?"_

"Because Dumbledore forbade it. He told your mother and I of a prophecy that said we had to wait until you were older, that he would be the one to tell you and Harry Potter when you became of age." Roger Sr. replies honestly.

"Tell me now, everything you know about me, and Harry too. What do you know about him?" Darcey demands, finally lowering her tone and attempting to calm down.

"What's going on?"Interrupts a male voice.

Darcey and her parents turn to face Roger and Tracey standing at the base of the stairs, taking in with concerned eyes the scene before them.

"Why are you fighting? It's Christmas Eve." Tracey asks sadly, looking between her father and sister.

After a moment their father recites almost robotically, "Your sister's birth name is Darcey Petunia Potter, she was born to James and Lily Potter who sacrificed themselves in order to save her twin, their son, Harry Potter, the boy who lived."

"_What?_" Comes Tracey's bewildered and skeptical tone.

"_What are you talking about dad?_" Comes softly Roger next.

"_Look at me."_ Darcey demands coldly, drawing her father's attention back on her. "Ignore them and tell me everything you know about Harry Potter and I." She says knowing she's running out of time. The Veritaserum will wear off any minute now and she needs these answers, she needs to know everything they've been keeping from her.

Roger Sr. gazes down at his daughter, sadness reflecting in his heavy brown eyes. "Harry Potter was sent to live with your uncle and aunt, a pair of muggles from Little Whinging. You were born premature and still in St. Mungo's Hospital when your parents died sixteen years ago at the hands of Lord Voldemort."

"Albus Dumbledore separated you two, knowing that when Voldemort returned to power he would seek vengeance on Harry and find you with him, thus killing you. The blood sacrifice Lily Potter made to protect her son still only protects Harry, leaving you vulnerable. Dumbledore was certain that the Dark Lord had not been made aware of your existence; therefore it was in your best safety that you were removed from Harry, as if you never existed. You were renamed and adopted by us unofficially, off the Ministry records to keep you protected." Roger Sr. explains, his eyes reflecting pity for his daughter. He felt sorry for her. It was a curse being born to the Potters and that had been why they chose to adopt her, she didn't deserve such a fate and they had wanted to give her a better life with them.

"_Darcey…_" Tracey whispers, looking with sorrow filled eyes at her sister. She clutches her hand to her mouth in horror, taking in their father's confession. Her sister's doomed. The Dark Lord will find her and murder her and he'll murder anyone else who comes between him, Darcy and Harry

"_How many people know of this?"_ Roger asks looking just as fearful, knowing like Tracey, that Darcey's life is at risk.

"As far as I'm aware this knowledge is just between your mother, I and Dumbledore." Their father says calmly.

"_Darcey._" Their mother speaks up from the sofa, peering with misty eyes at the adoptive daughter whom she's always loved just as much as her own two children, as far as she was concerned she _was_ her child. "_I'm so sorry dear, your father and I were just doing our best to protect you. We love you so very much. You need to know that._"

* * *

Lucius steps through the hole in the cement prison wall, peering down at the roaring, black sea below him. The icy, dark waves crash violently against the jagged rocks surrounding Azkaban prison, located on an island in the middle of the North Sea.

Dementors, skeletal like creatures of the night who feast upon the happiness of those around them, encircle the iron prison, flying like vultures in the sky. Normally acting as guards to the inmates but today they don't interfere with the mass breakout, switching their loyalty from the Ministry of Magic to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

"_Come Lucius, I have a task for you to redeem yourself."_ Says his Master from the corridor. Inmates rush past him, howling wickedly in glee as they apparate from the infiltrated prison.

"_I'm free again! The Dark Lord has brought me salvation!_" Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius' sister in law declares to the other inmates scurrying around her like sewer rats.

"_For a price Bellatrix."_ Voldemort corrects his voice raspy and low, sounding like a hissing serpent.

Stepping out from the shadowy corridor and into the filthy chamber stands the Dark Lord. Waiting behind him is another Death Eater, Severus Snape.

"_Severus has informed me of a prophecy, told to him by Albus Dumbledore himself."_ Voldemort says, glancing back with prideful eyes at his most loyal follower.

"_Harry Potter has a twin sister and Severus knows where they've hidden her. Come, join me as I capture Darcey Potter."_ Voldemort says, his mouth curling up slightly at the corners in a wicked smile, his red eyes glistening with blood lust.

The three Death Eaters and their Master apparate together under the direction of Severus Snape to the Davis home, secluded on a hill deep in the English countryside.

There are no wards put into place to protect the home from invaders, allowing them to freely apparate wherever they please. Snape chooses the living room and is the first to arrive on scene only a second ahead of the others.

His ebony eyes scan the space, finding Darcey on the other side of the room near the fireplace looking stunned. He casts a nonverbal hex at her that knocks her to the floor, concealed as she lands behind the couch, just as the others appear in clouds of black smoke.

Darcey lies on her stomach, silently fumbling with the back pocket of her jeans where she normally keeps her wand and to her horror finds it empty. '_It must have fallen out when Snape stunned me.'_ Darcey realizes, listening to the voices above her, the screaming of her sister, her father shouting at the intruders, her mother sobbing. _'What is Snape doing here and who else is here?'_ Darcey wonders fighting the urge to stand up, knowing that for whatever reason Snape had wanted her to hide.

"Where is she? The little girl?" An unfamiliar female voice shrieks and Darcey prays the Veritaserum has worn off her parents.

"What do you want with my family?" Her father asks, his voice firm and steady with courage.

_"The itty, bitty, baby_ _Potter!" _Spat the female voice. _"Little Darcey, come out, come out wherever you are!"_ She cackles madly.

"She's upstairs in her bedroom." Her brother lies, his voice just as calm and brave as their father's.

Darcey army crawls forward a few inches, cautiously peering around the corner of the loveseat between the space of the couch and the end table, still concealing her from view.

From her vantage point she can see almost everyone. Roger and Tracey are still frozen at base of the steps with a man she knows from his mugshot in the Daily Prophet as Lucius Malfoy, Draco's Death Eater father.

He has his wand extended at Tracey while the female Death Eater stalks Roger, gazing at him with dark, hungry eyes. She looks vaguely familiar and Darcey's certain that she's seen her picture somewhere but can't put a name to the face. The deranged woman wears the same dingy prison jumpsuit as Lucius, her long, curly black hair appearing frizzy and matted with knots.

Snape is farthest from her standing in the corner near the bookshelf and the Christmas tree his wand pointed at her father's back, who's standing above her between the two couches next to the coffee table.

She can't see her mother from this angle and whoever's guarding her.

"_The boy's lying. Kill him."_ Commands a raspy male voice.

"_Avada Kedavra"_ The female Death Eater shrieks, attacking her prey.

There's a flash of green light as she murders her brother. Roger turns stiff and gray, his lifeless steely blue eyes still open wide with fear, gazing up at the ceiling from his position on the floor. Tracey let's out a shrill scream, crying out for their brother, she falls to her knees before him, desperately shaking him. "_Wake up! Roger, wake up!"_ She shouts, tears streaming down her face.

Their mother is sobbing hysterically now, wailing "_No! Not my baby boy! Not my baby!"_

Darcey clamps her hand tightly over her mouth to keep herself from sobbing as tears spill from her eyes. She stares silently at Roger's corpse, her heart wrenching in pain. Terror consumes her as her body pumps with adrenaline. The urge to flee is almost unbearable as her mind goes into Fight or Flight mode.

"_Where is Darcey Potter?"_ The reptilian male voice hisses again, causing their mother to sob even louder.

"We made a deal. You swore not to hurt my family if I cooperate with your men. I helped them infiltrate the prison. I gave you many of your followers back. _We made a deal!_" Her father shouts causing the female witch to howl with laughter.

"I've done what you've asked of me under the agreement that no harm comes to my family. _Darcey is my daughter and you will stay the hell away from her_." Roger Davis Sr. warns, his body quivering with rage.

"_The girl does not share your blood. Give her to me and your wife and daughter will be spared. Keep her from me and watch as I destroy everything you've ever loved. You will perish along with your family Davis, unless you tell me where Darcey Potter is hidden._" Voldemort threatens coldly sending a shiver down her spine, and although Darcey can't see the Dark Lord, she's certain it's him holding her mother hostage. If she weren't so terrified she'd realize how disgustingly ironic it is that he faced her mother Lily Potter sixteen years ago and now here he was facing her mother again.

Amelia Davis' sobbing is drowned by the holiday music still playing in the background; otherwise the room is eerily quiet as her parents consider the Dark Lord's threat.

'_Would my family really betray me?' _Darcey mentally panics, but doesn't stick around long enough to find out, deciding then that it's unfair of her to let them sacrifice themselves. She's just one life, and not worth the lives of four and it seems they're on the verge of giving her away. Her life is in their hands right now and the outcome is looking grim. It's time for her to make a move she needs to go _now._

"Let my daughter and wife apparate and I'll tell you where Darcey is." Her father finally agrees, negotiating his terms.

There's another eerie silence as Voldmort absorbs her father's offer, his words hang in the air. There's a pop of static before the grossly cheerful and heavily out of place upbeat holiday music continues.

Darcey slowly and silently reaches out her hand to the ceramic bowl of floo powder at the foot of the fireplace, the loose gray sand sifting between her fingers as she takes a handful of powder, preparing to flee.

Amelia finally appears in her line of vision, walking across the living room to meet Tracey at the base of the staircase, hugging her daughter tightly. Amelia looks at her husband for possibly the last time ever.

"_I love you. I'm so sorry_." She whispers, tears running down her face and the way she says it leads Darcey to believe that she's not only addressing her husband, she's talking to her as well.

Amelia removes her wand from her red and white polka dotted apron with green ruffle trim, the apron she wears every year when she makes her homemade Christmas cookies.

Darcey's heart clenches at the memory and all the other memories that follow, as her childhood seems to flash instantly before her eyes. The pain she feels is unbearable, like nothing she's ever felt.

She realizes in that moment that she will never see this house again. She will never see her family again and Roger's dead. It's all over now, the life she's known up to today will end and she will be reborn from this tragedy. From this day forward she will live a solitary life with nothing but the clothes on her back, for she can never come back here, it would be too obvious and Voldemort's men will be waiting for her. In this moment everything she's ever loved and everything she's ever cherished has been ripped from her. _She has_ _nothing to live for and nothing to lose and she vows to destroy the man who took it all away from her. _

Just as she hears the soft pop that indicates her mother and sister are safely gone, they've apparated somewhere, Darcey rises to her feet and in one swift motion, with the floo powder in hand, she lunges for the fireplace.

"_Hogwarts!"_ She bellows the name of her destination, the safest place she can think of. It's the only place Voldemort, for now, cannot get to her with the powerful wards Dumbledore has placed over the school.

Emerald flames engulf her as a green curse is flung at her and for a brief second their eyes lock, her sapphire orbs meet Voldemort's scarlet red ones. She's never seen such terrifying eyes, everything about the man- _no not man, for the creature she saw was not human-_ was the embodiment of evil. A creature created from hell. She will never forget those haunting, crimson eyes. The eyes of the man who destroyed her, took from her a past life as the daughter of James and Lily and sister of Harry, and now took away her present life, killing her brother and forcing her family into a position that they had to betray her.

Darcey stumbles roughly from the Headmaster's fireplace, falling on her hands and knees and covered in soot. She's drenched in sweat and her arms and legs shake violently from fear.

Gazing surreally ahead at the powder blue robes gliding towards her, she doesn't have the strength or the courage to move; therefore she doesn't look up at him.

"_They're dead_." She states numbly, her voice sounding foreign to her, it's oddly hollow.

Hot, salty tears spill from her eyes as a pair of boney arms engulfs her, guiding her a nearby chair.

"_Harry, I want to see him. Please_." Darcey begs. At first her mind screamed for Draco, she needed to see Draco, but she couldn't see him, his father was one of the Death Eater's who had been at her house today to kill her.

Snape was her next thought, but he was still back at her home too, most likely watching Voldemort kill off her father as they speak.

Her third and final option was Harry, the only family she had left apart from her adoptive mother and sister who betrayed her, fled knowing she'd die. So it was Harry now who she needed to see. _It had always been Harry…_ Darcey realizes, regretting more than ever her choice to turn her back on him. _  
_

* * *

_"Now the truth Draco_." says Lucius calmly, flicking a lock of greasy hair from his icy, gray eyes. "_What do you know of the girl and why did she have your wand?" _

"_You've seen Darcey? Is she dead?"_ Draco whispers, his stomach sinking in fear.

"_No_." Lucius replies begrudgingly just as two more figures enter the dining room. His aunt Bella and Professor Snape drag the pale, unconscious body of a man across the hardwood floor. His head lulled forward and long, shaggy dark hair concealing his face. They carry him downstairs to the cellar without a word being said.

"_You're lucky I spotted your wand before the Dark Lord did, or else you'd be dead."_ Lucius seethes kneeling before his son.

"_I pray you knew nothing of that girl's identity, Draco. Or else the Dark Lord will kill us all."_

_"I didn't know a thing, I swear." _Draco vows with a shudder, peering up at his father.

_"If you bring her here, you will be rewarded greatly." _Lucius hisses, bribing his son, his voice laced with desperation. Once more he's failed the Dark Lord, putting his family in a dangerous situation, but perhaps Draco could save them.

"_It's crucial now that you complete your mission, Draco. You must kill Albus Dumbledore, and if you can, bring your friend over for supper." _Says Lucius cruelly.


	12. Chapter 12: The Burrow

Darcey peers up at the strangest house she's ever seen. The house looks as if it's been pieced together from salvaged rubbish, leaning crooked and five stories tall. Multiply chimneys stick out at odd angles, a wispy trail of gray smoke rising from each one.

Darcey pauses to admire the deep orange and pink sunset. The skies have cleared, revealing the descending golden sun kissing the horizon where the sky and snow meet. The beauty of the moment speaks deeply to Darcey, filling her soul momentarily with blissful peace.

She could spend forever right here, gazing at this sunset, pretending nothing else matters. If only it were that easy to run away from everything she's faced today.

An arm wraps around her shoulder, guiding her to the wonky house. On her way inside she reads a sign sticking out of the snow marked '_The Burrow'._

Dumbledore raps upon the door and after a moment a ginger haired woman greets them, smiling warmly at the pair and welcoming them out of the cold, bitter air and into her home.

Dumbledore must have spoken to her before hand, telling her the tragic circumstances that bring them here this evening and explaining who Darcey is and why she needs to see Harry because the woman doesn't question their presence at her home.

Darcey's led inside as she peers around the cluttered kitchen. There's rubbish everywhere, the most random collection of artifacts Darcey's ever seen. She catches herself scowling when her eyes land on the table with eight mismatched chairs, not a single one resembling the other in any way, shape or form. It looks like a junkyard rather than a home and Darcey wonders how anyone could stand to live like this.

"Hello, I'm Molly Weasley dear." The kind lady greets, enthusiastically shaking Darcey's hand. She manages a small smile to be polite. "Darcey Dav-" Darcey stops, remembering what her father had said about her adoption being unofficial and off record, therefore Davis wasn't ever her last name. Darcey was never truly part of their family, just an orphan pretending to belong.

"_Darcey, just Darcey._" She mumbles instead, releasing her hand.

Molly casts her a sympathetic look and already it seems she knows way too much about her. She wonders how much Dumbledore told her and suddenly she's uncomfortable, disliking that she's in the dark.

"Harry's in the living room, I'll give you two some privacy." Molly offers as Darcey walks around the bend and into the equally mismatched living space. A cozy fire crackles softly from a small iron fireplace, bathing the space in warmth and light. Harry is seated on a hideous, saggy, olive colored armchair and rises when he sees her.

Both twins stand before each other awkwardly, Harry looking stiff and uncomfortable and Darcey looking oddly blank and sluggish.

She thought she'd feel relief upon seeing him, being that he's her only family left, but she instead feels numb, unable to decipher any emotion at all from within her. This can't be normal, she decides, there's something wrong with her. She wonders faintly if she's losing her mind.

Darcey invites herself to sit on the mustard yellow, 70's era couch, not caring anymore about anything at all, submitting to the numbing effects of depression.

Death crosses her mind, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and trying to persuade her to give into the darkness she feels overcoming her. It engulfs her, leaving her empty and despondent. _What's left?_ She wonders, _what's left to live for?_ _Why am I still here? What's my purpose?_

"Dumbledore said you wanted to see me." Harry begins after its clear Darcey intends to remain silent.

"_I don't know why I'm here, Harry."_ Darcey replies quietly, looking broken and downcast.

A thick silence hangs over them as Harry's green eyes scan over his sister's slumped form. She doesn't meet his gaze, staring blankly at a space on the opposite wall.

Finally she reaches for the right pocket of her navy, wool pea coat, pulling out a small phial of clear liquid. She tips the bottle to her lips, swallowing some before stowing it away.

"_Veritaserum_." She explains, still gazing at something she must find incredibly interesting on the wall.

"I was under the Imperius curse when I cursed Katie Bell." Darcey says truthfully, finally peering over at Harry with stormy, dark eyes.

Her brother steps forward, meeting her on the couch. He sits beside her, his eyes narrowed firmly on hers. "_Are you a Death Eater?"_ Harry demands, anger seeping into his tone.

"_No."_

"_Is Malfoy a Death Eater?"_ Harry asks next, his voice softening slightly now that he knows for certain she's not one of Voldemort's followers.

"_Yes._" Darcey answers honestly, feeling a twinge of guilt for betraying Draco's secret to her brother, but she figures he already knew that anyway and she can't lie under the effects of the truth serum.

"Why did Professor Dumbledore bring you here?" Harry finally asks, satisfied that the top questions on his mind have been answered. He feels a bit more at ease around his sister now, not that this new information suddenly mends their dysfunctional relationship, but it's a start. He's still weary of her, remembering their prophecy and Dumbledore's warning at the beginning of the year not to get close to her. He knows he can't trust her, but at least for now she seems relatively harmless. He sees no reason why they can't talk, knowing Dumbledore wouldn't have brought her to him if he felt it would put Harry in danger.

"_Somebody told Voldemort who I am, that I'm your sister."_ Darcey explains, diverting her eyes to her hands, not wanting Harry to see her cry. She feels the hot tears stinging at her eyes, willing her to let go, but she fights it. The numbness overcomes her again as she focuses on her pale, slender fingers, examining the lines of her fingerprint, distracting her from the memory.

"They came to my house. Killed my brother, probably my father too. My mother and sister left me there to die. My father betrayed me. He was going to tell them where I was. I was hiding on the floor behind the couch, wandless. I don't know how I managed but I made it out alive. Took the floo network back to Hogwarts and Dumbledore found me. Brought me here to see you. _I wanted to see you_." Darcey clarifies, getting straight to the point, not giving her mind a chance to linger on the painful memory. She doesn't want to relive it. She doesn't want to retell it. She just wants to forget it, but she knows that's impossible. The events of today will haunt her forever; already it's changed her. She'll never be the same, her innocence gone and replaced with cold, unforgiving hatred. _Voldemort will pay._ She vows to avenge herself and take back what rightfully hers, her happiness he stole from her. The only relief from this pain is vengeance, that's all that matters now. She has nothing left to live for. Her anger drives her, pushing her to carry on and not give into the despair. The hope of living long enough to see that fucker die is her only ambition. She vows to destroy him or die trying.

"_I want him dead."_ Darcey seethes, her lightless eyes gazing up at Harry, piercing through him.

"It has to be me." Says Harry. "Neither of us can live while the other survives and I have to be the one to do it. I have to kill him." He explains.

Darcey pauses, reciting their prophecy in her head. "It says I gain his favor, right? So I join him at some point, but what if I didn't _really_ join him, just pretended to like Snape. He's a Death Eater, but he's _good_. That could be me. I could fool him-" Darcey replies eagerly, feeling reinvigorated, as if she suddenly has a purpose. She had been devastated when she first heard of her prophecy, she thought she was destined to be evil but maybe Draco was right in that we control our own destinies. Was it possible to rewrite hers?

"_You could never fool Voldemort_." Harry interrupts, his face looking hard. "Snape's had years of experience playing both sides and still Voldemort doubts him. He'd see right through you and what would the point be anyway? If Snape's truly good the Order already has him as a spy, why would they need another." Harry gently points out.

"_Look._" He sighs, noticing the glare she's giving him. He casts her a sympathetic look. He hadn't meant to offend her or crush her enthusiasm. "You've been through a lot today and you're coping. You're angry and you want revenge, but a week, a month, a year from now you may no longer feel that way. I think you should take some time and heal first before you go jumping into picking which side to fight for." Harry advises, sounding much too wise for a sixteen-year-old boy. Darcey decides that he's been spending too much time under the wing of Albus Dumbledore, for he sounds just like him and she doesn't appreciate being talked to like she's some naïve little girl who doesn't know what she's getting into. She knows now what side she wants to fight for, it's crystal clear who her enemy is and she wants nothing more than to see him lose.

"You don't trust me." Darcey replies bluntly, her cold eyes narrowing in anger. "That's why you don't want my help. You have this preconceived opinion of me, you and Dumbledore have interpreted the prophecy in only one way and you're being close-minded. You don't want to believe I'm capable of good, that maybe you both were wrong about me. You're letting your prejudice blind you."

"And quite honestly, I don't give a rats ass what you think of me. Whether or not you accept it we're fighting against Voldemort together, meaning we're allies." Darcey declares, rising from her seat. She's said what she's needed to say to him but it seems she's still alone. Harry and the Order want nothing to do with her, and that's fine. She doesn't need their approval to help destroy Voldemort. Darcey's a clever and talented young witch, she'll figure it out on her own what her role is in this war. '_And I will have a role.' _She vows.

Darcey returns to the kitchen, certain that Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley had heard everything she said and she's glad, the old fool needed to hear it. Someone has to knock him off his high horse. She's determined to control her own destiny and not let their opinions of her dictate who she becomes.

"I'm ready to leave whenever you are, sir." Darcey says curtly, brushing past the Headmaster and waiting for him outside. It's nightfall now and darkness cloaks the land. A frosty gush of wind lashes out at her, whipping her hair. She shivers, clutching her wool coat tighter to her body for heat as she glances up at the twinkling silver stars visible above. With a pang of comfort and sadness she remembers the story her mother told her as a small child about the Christmas star atop their tree, allowing herself to believe it true for a moment now. She imagines that star looking down upon her, wondering if Roger has become a star too, one of the billion tiny white dots littering the sky, all gazing down at her.

'_Maybe our souls live on in the stars once our bodies fail us. Maybe Lily's up there, and James too.'_ Darcey allows herself to indulge in the fantasy, and for a small moment she's not alone.

* * *

Only a handful of students remain in the castle, making the corridors eerily quiet. She's never seen Hogwarts this deserted. Without the body heat of the hundreds of students living inside, the castle is cold and uninviting.

Darcey curls up on one of the smooth, leather sofa's in the Slytherin common room. Wrapped up in a thick, emerald quilt she strains her eyes to read the words of the ancient tome her father gave her, in the lightless room.

The Bloody Baron, the medieval ghost that haunts the dungeons, glides gracefully through the room. His wispy, white form stops beside her as he silently peers over her shoulder and into the book she's reading.

"Careful child." A low, hoarse voice whispers near her ear. "It's near impossible to resist the pull of dark magic. Once it draws you in, you're a prisoner to it. You'll fall further and further drowning in its depths until it succeeds in destroying all that is pure within you."

Darcey shudders, both from the icy air radiating from the phantom and his grave warning. She tilts her head up at him, watching as his semi- transparent form glides through her. Her arms erupt in goose bumps at the unpleasant, chilling sensation of the ghost momentarily consuming her. She peers up into the gaunt face and blank, staring eyes of the melancholy phantom. Her eyes trail his robes, covered in silver blood.

As if reading her mind, picking up on her wicked intentions, he gestures to his blood stained robes. "_Murder rips the soul apart."_ The Baron hisses.

"_What if the person you murder deserves to die?" _Darcey inquires quietly with morbid curiosity.

"_Such judgment isn't yours to make._" The Bloody Baron seethes angrily, glaring down upon her.

Darcey deciphers the hidden message in his words, gathering from his appearance that he's committed an act of murder in his past life that he now deeply regrets. She glances at the thick, pearly white chains shackled to his ankles. '_Perhaps he bears the chains as a symbol for his penitence._'

Still who is he but an undead, shadow of a man? Who is he to pass judgment onto her for the mistakes he's made?

"_Neither is it your duty to pass judgment upon me for sins entirely your own." _Darcey defends in an equally glacial tone.

The spirit and mortal glare daggers at each other, neither one intending to back down. Just then a shadowy figure approaches in the dim, greenish light of the room. The Bloody Baron finally leaves, gliding away from the two students and disappearing through the thick, stone wall of the dungeon.

"_Darcey, is that you?_" The figure inquires.

"_Theo? What are you doing here?_" Darcey asks, her brows furrowing in confusion as she finally recognizes the figure as fellow sixth year, Theodore Nott.

Theo, as most everybody calls him, moves to face the fireplace muttering "_Incendio"_ as fire shoots from his wand, igniting the stack of dry logs. Instantly both light and heat engulf the room, to which Darcey is grateful.

"Thank you. I haven't my wand." Darcey supplies, closing shut her book and placing it on the couch beside her.

Theodore still doesn't answer her, keeping to himself why he's here at the castle for the holiday break. Darcey assumes it has something to do with his elderly father, whom everyone knows is a high ranking Death Eater, and the absence of his mother, who most Slytherin's also know passed away when Theo was a young boy.

Thoedore Nott, like Blaise Zabini is often an easy target for gossip. Zabini's widowed, veela mother being well known for the mysterious deaths of her husbands and inheriting their wealth. Darcey supposes that now she will join them in the center of the rumor mill, she's sure word will travel quickly of the events that transpired this morning. She realizes that her classmates will know her true identity now, as Darcey…_Petunia was it?_ _What an ugly middle name_…Potter, twin to the Boy-Who-Lived.

"_'Secrets of the Darkest Art.'_ _That there's illegal_." Theodore says matter of fact his voice intrigued as he eyes the front cover of the book lying beside Darcey.

"_Is it?"_ Darcey wonders, raising her brow as she looks down upon the old, leather tome. _"I hadn't known that." _She admits with curiosity, clutching the book closer to her.

"_You hadn't known?"_ Theo parrots skeptically, casting her a look that says he thinks she's barking mad. "_How is it you managed to acquire such a rare and dangerous book?_" He asks.

"_My father_." Darcey supplies honestly. "_He gifted it to me."_

"_Lucky you then, that's an extremely valuable book amongst dark wizards. I wouldn't have it lying around_." Theo warns, hinting that it might get stolen.

A comfortable silence hangs over them as Theo pulls from his robes a small, worn paperback book. It appears to be an autobiography of Walterus White, a renowned Potion's Master of the nineteenth century and predecessor to Horace Slughorn who began teaching at Hogwarts in the 1920's.

Darcey eyes the weedy boy across from her, deciding he was much cuter as a child, when she once had a school girl crush on him back when they were twelve. Puberty has done nothing good for him, leaving him lanky and weakly built, shooting up in height but not gaining in muscle or fat. A few small blemishes litter his face but looking past all that he's still not an _unattractive _bloke. There are some handsome aspects to him like his intelligence, being known as a genius as Potions. His hair is easy to look at, dark and wavy, curling attractively at the ends, but his eyes, Darcey had loved his eyes from the moment she first saw him. The prettiest and lightest shade of green Darcey's ever seen, the color of spring.

Darcey recalls his reaction when Pansy Parkinson told him she fancied him. He acted indifferent, not really caring one way or another if she had liked him, but he made it quite clear he didn't share the same feelings.

Darcey had been mortified and a bit devastated, thinking there must have been something wrong with her until the same experience happened to another girl the following year, and the year after that, and by their fifth year it was common knowledge that Theodore Nott didn't care for girls. He only had room in his heart for his studies.

Darcey reopens her book, deciding to stay and read a while, enjoying Theo's silent company. In a way it reminds her of her study sessions with Draco. She realizes then that she misses him much more than she should. Perhaps she's grown too attached to him. The longing she feels when he's gone is too strong. She shouldn't miss him this much…


	13. Chapter 13: Apparition Lessons

On Monday, January 2nd, the students of Hogwarts return from their 5-day holiday break.

The first batch of Slytherins step out of the fireplace, one by one with a burst of emerald flames. Darcey decides not to stick around, not wanting to see Draco or her peers just yet.

She's anxious to face him after his father showed up at her house to kill her, it makes for an awkward conversation that Darcey's not eager to have. Not that she holds his father's behavior against Draco, after all she had known both he and his father were Death Eaters, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to her to see him there…

No, if she was honest with herself that wasn't the real reason behind her avoidance. She was _scared_. Not of Draco's father, but of what his father had _told_ him. _Had he turned Draco against Darcey? Forbade him from befriending her?_

Adding to the obstacles now coming between their friendship was the social peer pressure Draco was now bound to face as their pureblood classmates became aware of Darcey's blood status as a half-blood. She had figured this much out when her father told her of her muggle uncle and aunt whom Harry lived with. _So would he treat her differently, letting the prejudice instilled in him drive them apart? Would he hate her and find her disgusting? _She wasn't ready to find out. She felt weak and vulnerable emotionally, still battling the effects of depression and she wasn't sure she could handle the loss of her only friend.

So instead, she heads to the fifth floor, summoning the Room of Requirement for the first time. With not real need, except to be alone, the room presents itself as it naturally appears with stacks of rubbish and lost magical artifacts.

Darcey roams the pathway, snaking through the mountains of clutter, examining random objects every now and then and looking for anything to distract herself with.

After some time she stumbles across a lone, bronze, ornate, full-length mirror. Shifting to stand before it she meets a pair of murky blue eyes staring blankly back at her. Her face looks even paler than usual, giving her a harsh appearance as it clashes against the darkness of her hair and robes. Her chestnut hair appears lackluster and dull, hanging in tousled waves, cascading down to her breastbone. In short, she looks like dung.

Her reflection smiles back at her, having a wicked quality to it as she radiates an air of arrogant pride and a grandiose sense of power.

Darcey brushes her fingertips against her lips, feeling that her mouth is indeed still closed and notices that her reflection doesn't mimic her action, explaining why they share different expressions.

Darcey's eyes slowly trail down the copy of herself in the mirror, noticing the sticky, fresh bloodstains on her robes, splattered in dots upon the exposed part of her chest, neck and face. Her hands covered in bright, gooey blood clutch either sides of a severed head.

She gazes fearlessly at the decapitated, hairless head of a man, his skin gray with decay and crimson eyes shut peacefully. Dangling from his neck are severed veins and stringy tissue dripping with blood. The decapitated head belongs to Lord Voldemort.

Darcey doesn't scream or run away as any normal person would after seeing such a horrific image of themselves and instead stays frozen, oddly calm as she stares blankly at her reflection, memorizing every detail. Excitement bubbles within her, a sort of blood lust that she should find disturbing, but doesn't. Instead she feels giddy with happiness, for this is her deepest, darkest desire.

* * *

"Have you seen the front page of the Daily Prophet?" Says Blaise Zabini to Draco. The two boys are gathered in their dormitory, unloading their trunks.

"No I haven't." Replies Draco, craning his head to get a look.

"Murder on Christmas Eve, Roger Davis Jr. found dead at the scene of the crime, in the living room of the Davis home. The mortician confirmed Friday that the killing curse had been used against the victim. Surviving family members have mysteriously gone missing, for the exception of adopted daughter Darcey Davis, who currently resides at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard as confirmed by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Darcey Davis awaits questioning by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic for any knowledge she may have of the murder... " Blaise recites as Draco peers down at the moving photograph of two Aurors carrying on a stretcher the dead body of the boy, cloaked in a white sheet, out from the home.

"Seems a bit strange doesn't it?" says Blaise implying that it looks suspicious that her brother's dead and her entire adoptive family missing, yet here she is at school unharmed.

Draco decides he's heard enough, refusing to entertain the idea that Zabini's implying. He leaves to seek Darcey out feeling the overwhelming urge to see her. There's much he needs to discuss with her and he's sure she's missing her wand.

Draco doesn't find her in the common room and after inquiring with her dorm mates her whereabouts, Daphne Greengrass confirms she's not upstairs. There's only one other place she would be, knowing her need to be alone, she wouldn't go to the library, she never does. No, she would go someplace she'd be promised solitude, the place Draco often disappeared to for the same reason.

He opens the Room of Requirement and eventually finds Darcey sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of an ornate mirror.

"_Darcey_." Draco greets, slicing through the silence and gaining the attention of his friend. She quickly gets up to greet him, looking a bit awkward and stiff. She doesn't look very thrilled to see him Draco notices and can't help but sense that he's intruded upon something sacred.

"_Hi_." She quietly replies. Draco takes not of her terrible appearance, not that she look unattractive, just sick. She's ghostly pale, her hair looks like it hasn't been combed in days, her robes are wrinkled and her eyes stare blankly back at him, looking darker than usual, a deep, stormy blue.

"_I believe I have something of yours, figured you'd be eager to get it back_. " Draco attempts to break the ice, pulling from his robe her sleek holly wand.

She takes it gratefully, admiring it for a moment before she stows it away. The air is still thick between them and Draco decides to just get on with it, not caring much for small talk.

"My father found my wand at your home, but wouldn't tell me much of what happened other than you escaped… Feel up to talking about it?" Draco offers, inwardly dying to know in her words what happened.

Darcey sighs, plopping herself down ungracefully in a nearby armchair, the paisley fabric covered in moth holes. A small cloud of dust drifts into the air with her movement, which causes her to sneeze.

When she regains herself she confides, with an impressively steady voice, everything that transpired on Christmas Eve.

"_I'm sorry for your loss_." Draco supplies a bit disingenuously. Draco was notably horrible at displays of comfort, but Darcey didn't seem bothered by this, and if she was she didn't say so.

"_Thanks_." She deadpans, staring blankly down at her hands.

"I went to the Burrow." Darcey states after a moment. "Ron Weasley's house, to see my brother." She explains after Draco casts her a questioning look.

Draco scowls at the mention of both Potter and Weasley but remains silent, deciding now's not the time to insult them.

As if sensing this she adds, "They live in a hog pen. Literally, _a hog pen_ built upwards four or five stories high and leaning dangerously. I'm certain it was held together by magic. Don't get me wrong, Weasley's mum seemed nice and all but their home…" Darcey shudders at the memory. "It was filled to the brim with rubbish, like nothing I've ever seen before."

"_Doesn't surprise me at all._" Draco scowls. "_What with how disgustingly poor Weasley is. He can hardly afford a pot to piss in, let alone a proper home_." Draco sneers.

"Anyway." Darcey refocuses, realizing that she's diverted off topic. "I spoke to Harry. Told him everything that's happened. Seems Dumbledore's brainwashed him into distrusting me. Apparently I'm an evil Death Eater. I even took the Veristaserum for good measure, to make a point. _By the way he knows you're a Death Eater, sorry about that._" Darcey confesses sheepishly.

"Great." Draco growls. "Just what I need Potter up my ass more than usual."

"I said I'm sorry." Darcey resupplies.

"Back to point." She continues. "I even offered to join him. Help him fight against Voldemort-"

"_Don't say his name_." Draco shudders.

"_Fine you pansy, the Dark Lord_" She rolls her eyes. "I offered to help him but he wasn't interested. Basically said I was rushing into it and that I would change my mind."

"Don't do that." Draco commands. "Those brave-happy fools will only manage to get themselves killed. There's no way Potter can beat him, I've seen first hand what he's capable of. He's powerful, like nothing you could ever imagine. He's practically immortal. Potter doesn't stand a chance." "_Stay with me."_ Draco says seriously.

_"I am_. _I've decided to fight against my brother as revenge for his rejection."_ Darcey lies, knowing that it's in both of their best safety if Draco is kept in the dark about Darcey's desire for vengeance against Voldemort. This way he can help her get close to her enemy without risking his life or being tempted to betray her and if the Dark Lord probes his mind he'll find nothing if he believes fully that Darcey has no malicious intent. Darcey feels guilty using him but finds it impossible to fully trust anyone after her parent's stunt last week, she's sure she'll never make the same mistake again of believing that anyone's capable of truly loving her.

"The Dark Lord won't believe you, he'll think your fighting for the Order no matter what you say. You'd have to do something to convince him that you're loyal to him." Says Draco.

"Like what exactly?" Darcey inquires, fishing for ideas.

"Something impressive. To prove you're valuable. _Like killing an Auror_." Draco suggests.

"_Maybe._ I'll worry about that part later, for now I don't want to think about this war any longer. I have enough on my plate already." Darcey frowns with a sigh, pushing a tangled lock of hair from her eyes.

Draco tinkers with a nearby set of brass scales, comparing the weight of random things, such as a tarnished gold locket and broken wristwatch, the wristwatch wins.

"Care to share?" Draco asks, still tinkering.

"Well for starters I haven't any clothes. My trunk is at home and my only possessions are the things I've kept at school, my uniform, robes and books. Besides that I have one outfit, my coat and a few galleons left over from Hogsmeade. I also have no idea where I'll be staying when school lets out over the summer and I'm sure the Ministry's going to question me about what happened and I'm not sure what I'm going to say yet. It would be unwise to tell them the truth, right? I mean wouldn't that piss off Voldemort if I rat him out?" Darcey frets.

"_Quit saying that_." Draco growls, turning around to ensure Darcey sees him glaring.

"_Oi! Shut it, will you? Just answer the bloody question."_ Darcey snaps irritably.

"I don't know, honestly. " Draco frowns, his mouth forming a hard, thin line as he thinks over the possible outcomes. "If it were me, I'd just let them read my mind like they're bound to do. It's standard procedure and the Dark Lord couldn't blame you if they forced the truth from you." Draco reasons.

"Okay, I suppose I'll just do that then."

Draco grows bored with the scales and moves to the mirror instead, wondering what Darcey found so intriguing about it. Unless she was just vain, but Draco had never once gotten that sort of impression from her. She seemed down to earth, unlike her superficial dorm mates.

Draco catches a glimpse of his reflection, gasping in surprise and stumbling a few steps backwards, nearly toppling over a nearby pile of rubbish in the process of regaining his balance. He's at first caught off guard by the reflection of himself, standing before the stiff, lifeless corpse of the Headmaster, looking proud and smug with success. It's his deepest desire, to complete his mission and gain the Dark Lord's favor.

"I don't know for certain, but I believe it depicts our deepest longings." Darcey supplies, watching intently as Draco stares into the mirror.

"_Come on, you'll never look away unless I make you."_ Darcey says, coming over to him and gently leading him away. "_I was looking at myself all morning, lucky you arrived._" Darcey adds lightly, though there's nothing light hearted about her deepest longing.

* * *

**NOTICE APPARITION LESSONS:**_ If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen in or before the 31__st__ of August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost 12 Galleons._

The Slytheryn sixth years gather around the Notice Board posted in the common room, pushing and shoving their way up front to be the first to sign. Darcey waits patiently in the very back near Theodore Nott and most of the girl's who can't compete with the rough housing of the boys.

After waiting a max of fifteen seconds, Draco grows bored and inpatient. Lacing his fingers with Darcey's, he leads them through the crowd, shoving people roughly aside. "_Out of my way you filthy wankers!"_ Draco barks.

"_Excuse me. Pardon. Er- Sorry."_ Darcey blushes, muttering sheepish apologies to the boys whom they nearly trample over.

Once up front Darcey quickly signs her name in wide, loopy, cursive letters. Draco signs beneath her, after she passes him the quill, signing neatly his narrow signature.

Draco intertwines their hands once more as they backtrack through the crowd and Darcey relishes the warmth of their hands together, enjoying the tingling sensation radiating up her arm at the contact.

A few days later they assembled in the Great Hall for their first lesson in Apparition. Turbulent, dark purple storm clouds brew above them through the bewitched ceiling. Rain lashes against the windows of the Great Hall. Low thunder roars in the distance as flashes of lightning briefly illuminate the sky.

A semi-transparent man stands at the front of the Hall with the four Heads of Houses, looking paper-like as if he will blow away at any second. Darcey assumes he's semi-transparent from all the disappearing and reappearing he's done as an Apparition instructor.

Professor McGonagall calls for quiet as the chatter in the Great Hall lowers to a less obnoxious level.

"What happened to your sister, Davis?" hisses Pansy from behind her. Darcey pivots around to face the witch.

"_It's awfully odd that you're here after your entire family goes off missing and your brother dies. Yet, you don't look the least bit distraught."_ Pansy rudely observes.

"_Pathetic you have nothing better to do than to gage how distraught I am._" Darcey replies with narrowed blue eyes. Not in any mood to deal with the bully.

"_I wouldn't pick fights with this one_." Steps in Draco with a wicked grin plastered to his face. "_Or you might be next to turn up missing_." He says darkly.

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" McGonagall barks from the front of the room as Darcey becomes aware that the lesson's started.

All of year six peers back at the group Slytherins being scolded, specifically Malfoy whose face flushes a dull pink with embarrassment. Draco sulks, silently seething as the instructor continues.

"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

The students scrambled into position, bumping and shoving into one another as they separate. Pansy purposely smacks her shoulder hard into Darcey, casting her a deep scowl that makes her look extremely unattractive.

The teachers move along the crooked row of students, marshalling them into proper rows and checking to make sure that there's adequate space between them. Darcey spots Harry's shock of black hair as he slyly sneaks behind Draco who's standing to her right having a hushed argument with Crabbe who's in front of him.

"I don't know how much longer, all right?" Malfoy shoots at him, looking mutinous. "It's taking longer than I thought."

Vincent opens his mouth to speak but Draco interrupts him, ignoring Darcey who reaches out to nudge him, attempting to get him to shut up.

"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"

"I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me." Says Harry from five feet behind them.

Draco spins around, drawing his wand just as the four Heads of Houses shout out for everyone to be quiet. Silence falls over the room as Draco reluctantly turns around to face the front again, casting Darcey a glare as if she's to blame for being unable to control her brother.

"Thank you, now then…" Says the instructor, whom Darcey has yet to catch his name. He waves his wand and old-fashioned, wooden hoops instantly appear on the ground in front of each student.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D's! _Destination, Determination, and Deliberation!_" Declares the instructor.

"He forgot _Dick Eating_." Draco sneers under his breath, causing Darcey to snort out in laughter. The two exchange an amused grin as the instructor continues.

"Step one: Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination, in this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Darcey observes the students around her, including her brother, to be sure that she isn't the only one gazing stupidly into her hoop.

Harry's bright green eyes lock with her blue ones from behind a pair of round spectacles. Darcey stares blankly back at him, her expression unreadable before turning back around.

She peers down into her hoop but finds it difficult to concentrate with Draco's snide remark still echoing through her head, causing her to smirk as she suppresses the urge to grin.

'_Destination, Determination… what was the last D?'_ Darcey faintly wonders, mentally scolding herself for not paying closer attention.

_"Step two: focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it-"_ At that Draco and Crabbe snigger, their minds still in the gutter. Darcey rolls her eyes at them, still smirking in amusement. "-_Flood from your mind to every particle of your body!" _

Darcey notices Pansy a few rows over, concentrating on her hoop so hard that her face has flushed red and her body is shaking as if she's a volcano on the verge of erupting.

Darcey refocuses, staring back at her hoop and attempting to take this lesson seriously. So far she's been goofing off and paying zero attention to the task at hand.

She clears her mind to the best of her abilities as she exhales a deep, calming breath, envisioning herself standing in the centre of the hoop.

"Step three!" The instructor calls. "And only when I give the command… Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with _deliberation!_"

_'That was the third D! Deliberation!'_ Darcey mentally exclaims. "

"On my command, now… One-two-three!"

Darcey focuses, closing her eyes shut tight and imagining herself reappearing five feet away inside her hoop, but to her disappointment nothing happens.

Daphne Greengrass who's directly in front of Darcey, does a sort of a graceful ballerina leap into the center of her hoop, bragging happily '_Look I've done it!'_ Before realizing her mistake. She pouts as Pansy and Millicent share a laugh on her behalf. _"Sod off!"_ The pretty blond growls, failing miserably at her attempt to appear intimidating.

Crabbe staggers like a drunkard. Malfoy, like Darcey remains frozen, still standing where he started. Neville Longbottom, a few rows to the right of Draco and Harry, is lying flat on his ass. Ernie McMillan, a snobbish Hufflepuff boy with a permanently upturned nose, does the same sort of ballet leap as Daphne, looking thrilled at his apparent success until he catches sight of Gryffindor Dean Thomas and his friend Seamus, roaring together in laughter at his expense. He straightens his robes, brushing off the invisible dust as he regains himself, trying quite hard to appear buff and masculine.

"Never mind, never mind." Comes the instructor's dry voice. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions…"

The second, third, and fourth attempts aren't any better. Darcey still remains frozen five feet away from her hoop, growing frustrated with her lack of success. She's normally quite gifted, so her failure throws her through a loop.

It wasn't until the fifth try that something exciting happened. Across the room a redheaded Hufflepuff girl, Susan Bones stands shrieking on one foot, wobbling in her hoop with her bloody, severed leg lying five feet away where she originally started. Frightened gasps and cries for help resound from nearby onlookers as Professor Sprout and Professor Snape quickly gather up the girl and reunite her with her leg. Professor Snape pours a clear potion on the wound that hisses and smokes like acid before it rejoins the leg bone with her hip socket and heals the sliced skin. They then proceed to escort her from the Great Hall and to the Hospital Wing to be looked over by healers.

With the flick of his wand Professor Flitwick vanishes the pool of bright red blood on the floor.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts occurs when the mind is insufficiently _determined_. You must concentrate continuously upon your _destination_, and move, without haste, but with _deliberation_…" Calmly explains the instructor, as if a scene so horrifying was a daily occurrence in his field of work. Most of the students look ghastly pale, obviously terrified to continue on with the Apparition lessons after seeing their classmate splinched.

"Thus remember the three D's." Says the Instructor. "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: _Destination. Determination. Deliberation_." He dismisses them and with the flick of his wand the hoops vanish as he walks out of the Great Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall.

The students erupt in chatter as they make their way to the Entrance Hall and back to their designated common room.

"_Well, that was entertaining_." Declares Draco, once they're in the dungeons.

"_Hardly._" Darcey frowns. "_I'm sure that must have been horribly unpleasant."_

"_Eh._" Draco shrugs. "_Maybe_, _but it was still a decent show."_ He smirks.

"You have a morbid sense of humor." Darcey deadpans before stating the password. "_Dragon Heartstring_"

The seemingly ordinary stone wall shifts to reveal a hidden iron door as the Slytherins re-enter the common room.

As soon as Darcey steps inside she's approached by a snotty little first year that looks irritated with being used as a messenger.

"Dumbledore wants to see you, in his office." Says the boy, leaving her alone once he's delivered the message and trotting back to his group of friends.

"_It's probably the Aurors here to interrogate me._" Whines Darcey, not feeling in the mood to deal with them. "_Come with me, please."_ She pleads, clutching Draco's arm as if she's prepared to drag him along with her regardless of what he says.

"_You know_ _I can't go in there_." Draco replies obviously, as if she's stupid for thinking otherwise.

"_I know that_." Darcey snaps irritably. "Just wait outside. It will help knowing you're out there." Darcey explains in a milder tone.

Draco's gray eyes soften as he peers blankly down at her, his expression difficult to read. After a moment he stiffly nods, allowing Darcey to whisk him away.

* * *

Darcey stands before Dumbledore and two Ministry officials, who look nothing like Aurors in her opinion. One being a tall, sallow faced man, with a grayish complexion and shoulder-length wavy brown hair. He reminds her of Sanguini, the vampire she met a few weeks ago at Professor Slughorn's Christmas party.

The other is a short, plump woman adorned in cotton candy pink robes with a disgustingly sweet smile plastered to her face. Her dark brown eyes glisten wickedly at the site of Darcey. She recognizes her instantly as Dolores Umbridge, the previous Co-Headmistress from the year prior, sent by the Ministry to keep and eye on Dumbledore. She was a foul woman, whom Darcey was thankful she hadn't spent much time with other than her overseeing their classes and patrolling the corridors, enforcing strict, new rules that Darcey found to be ridiculous. Such as, students were forbidden to stand no closer than 24 inches apart from one another at all times.

"What's going on?" Darcey asks calmly, making an effort to mask the anxiety she's feeling.

"Darcey, may I introduce to you the new Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour and his secretary, whom you may recognize already as Dolores Umbridge. They're here to discuss with you the specifics of your adoption." Dumbledore explains softly, attempting to reassure her that she has nothing to fear. Everything will be alright.

Darcey takes a seat in a nearby empty chair, peering up at the Minister of Magic who proceeds to tell her, much less gently, that her adoption records are absent in the Ministry archives and that Albus Dumbledore has taken full responsibility and blame for her illegal adoption.

"So what does this mean exactly?" Darcey replies slowly.

"Your birth certificate identifies you as Darcey Petunia Potter. Your birth mother and father, Lilly and James Potter are deceased, placing you under the guardianship of your surviving uncle and aunt, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Residing at Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England. You will be staying with them during the summer until you become of legal age on your seventeenth birthday. After which, you are no longer a minor, therefore not required to have guardianship."

"_You're sending me to live with muggles!"_ Shrieks Darcey in objection, clearly horrified by the future living arrangements.

"_Yes, just over the summer. After your birthday you're free to live wherever you please."_ The Minister restates coldly, appearing indifferent to Darcey's protest. It's clear he doesn't care at all about how she feels. She doesn't get a say in the matter.

Darcey clenches her fists into balls beside her, silently seething as she glares up at Scrimgeour.

"Also there's the matter over Christmas…" Scrimgeour continues as a shadowy figure emerges from the doorway. Darcey hadn't even realized the burly man was there.

Auror Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody darts in front of her, his wand drawn to press against her temple. Darcey stiffens in her chair; visibly resisting the urge to reach for her wand, knowing it'd be unwise to fight him.

He performs Legilimency on her, easily invading her mind and retrieving from it the raw memory. He guides the wispy, pearly-white strand of magic from her mind, trapping the silvery, liquid memory in a clear, glass phial that he stows away in his pocket.

"That'll do then." Announces the strawberry-blond haired Auror, his mad eye rotating violently, looking in every direction simultaneously.

"Thank you for your cooperation Miss Potter. You are now free to go." Curtly dismisses Scrimgeour.

Darcey doesn't hesitate to bolt from the room, eager to get as far away from the lot of them as she can.

With the shock of what happened, Darcey had completely forgotten that Draco was waiting for her in the corridor. Relief floods her when she sees him and she's glad she's not alone.

She wordlessly engulfs him in a tight, long hug, burying her face into the crook where his shoulder and neck meet. He stumbles back slightly at the force of her embrace, snaking his arms around her once he's steadied.

"Is everything alright?" Draco asks quietly from above her, enjoying the warmth of her body pressed against him.

A familiar spicy, slightly musky and masculine aroma fills her nostrils as she catches whiff of Draco's cologne. She tries desperately to recall where she's smelled the cologne before, knowing she's never been close enough to him to smell it until now. It's then she remembers the love potion in Slughorn's classroom during their first week of lessons. She hadn't known it back then, but the spicy, musky scent she smelled was Draco's cologne. Darcey feels herself blushing at the sudden realization, before pulling herself gently away from him.

Draco smirks when he catches sight of her rosy cheeks, feeling pleased with the effect he has upon her.

As they walk to the dungeons Darcey tells him of her meeting with the Headmaster, Rufus Scrimgeour, Dolores Umbridge and Alastor Moody. Draco scowls when she gets to the part about being forced to live amongst _muggles, _agreeing that it's entirely unfair.

* * *

Later in her dorm, Darcey has a hushed conversation with Daphne, her sister's best friend. The blond had timidly approached Darcey, finally finding the courage to ask her if the things printed in the Daily Prophet were true.

The two girls sit cross-legged facing each other, dressed in their pajamas on Darcey's bed.

Darcey tells her everything, knowing she's bound to find out sooner or later when the press releases the details of her memory under the investigation of the Ministry. The whole school will be buzzing with news of the Dark Lord coming after Harry Potter's twin sister and who knew Potter's twin was their very own shy Slytherin, Darcey Davis, now Darcey Potter, because in other news, her family had never adopted her. Who knew she's been a half-blood orphan all this time?

Darcey wasn't sure what kind of reaction to anticipate from Daphne, but genuine kindness and concern wasn't it. Daphne's powder blue eyes glisten with sadness at hearing Darcey's news.

"Wow… That must have been a lot to take in. How are you doing?" Daphne asks softly, resting her hand on Darcey's knee in a comforting gesture.

Darcey shrugs, putting on a mask of indifference. Hiding her emotions, refusing to open herself up so vulnerably and risk crying. "I'm hanging in there." Darcey frowns, looking down at her hands. "I just really miss them… It's especially strange not seeing Tracey here everyday… It's hard, like a constant reminder that she's gone and they've abandoned me."

"They were scared is all, they weren't thinking clearly. I'm sure they'll come back for you once they realize their mistake. Tracey loved you, I'm certain she's missing you terribly." Daphne frowns.

"I dunno that I could forgive them for it." Darcey admits darkly, feeling overwhelmingly depressed.

"Just like them, you'll come around too." Daphne encourages with a sweet smile.

"Maybe." Darcey lies to make Daphne feel better, knowing deep down she'll forever hold a grudge against her adoptive family, one that's impossible to mend.

"Try not to let Pansy get under your skin. She's devastated; she was Tracey's friend too, as you know. She's feeling bitter that it was you that returned to Hogwarts and not your sister. She's unfairly lashing out at you as her way of grieving. So don't take it too hard. She'll come around." Daphne supplies. Her words do nothing to make Darcey feel compassion for the pug-faced bully; in fact they anger her more so. '_Who the hell is Parkinson to make my life miserable because she's grieving? Doesn't she know I'm grieving too, and it's much harder for me than it is for her, being Tracey was my sister! For Merlin's sake could the wench be anymore narcissistic?_' Darcey mentally seethes.

"Well goodnight Darcey." Daphne dismisses with a small smile before padding back over to her cot on the other side of the room. Darcey slips beneath the cool, crisp sheets, pulling the thick, emerald quilt up to her neck as she turns over to lay on her side. She allows a restless sleep to overcome her, submerging her into the gruesome nightmares.


	14. Chapter 14: Occlumency & Snogging

Darcey sits in the library at a lone table near the window. Sleet melts against the window, sliding as it turns into water droplets down the glass. The wintry skies are gray and overcast. Frigid February wind howls outside.

Surrounded by multiple opened tomes sits one lonely Slytherin. Dark purple circles ring her eyes, giving her the appearance of having not slept in days. Her chestnut hair curls out at every which angle, making her look like the witches locked away in Azkaban, gone mad with insanity.

Darcey brushes back the messy locks of hair that keep falling into her eyes. She sighs in frustration, closing the sixth book she's skimmed through, still not finding what she's looking for.

"_What are you doing here?"_ Demands a familiar voice above her.

Darcey peers up at the handsome blond with pointed features and stunning, pale, gray eyes. Slung over his shoulder is his dragon-skin satchel and standing timidly behind him are two nervous looking girls.

"Who are _they_?" Darcey rudely points, not even attempting to sound friendly.

"_Who?_" Draco raises a light brow in confusion, pivoting to look behind him. "_Oh, don't worry about these two. Friends of mine, helping me with a small project_." Draco explains offhandedly, turning back to Darcey and once more ignoring the two other girls completely.

Darcey eyes them suspiciously, taking note that one of them is blushing at her. Her eyes narrow slightly before returning to Draco, who's now nosily scanning one of her books.

"Occlumency?" He asks curiously. "What about it?"

"What do you mean '_What about it?'_ I want to learn it, of course." Darcey snaps irritably. Gathering up the useless books and returning them by hand to the bookshelf behind her.

"Why not just use your wand?" Draco criticizes her, scrunching up his nose in disgust as if he's above such menial labor.

"It's only _right there_." Darcey replies as if he's an idiot. Feeling that it'd be stupid to waste her magic on such a simply task.

"_So, you're interested in learning Occlumency_." Draco smoothly redirects their conversation as Darcey finishes putting the books away and slings her worn, leather satchel over her shoulder.

"_Haven't I already said that?"_ Darcey snaps, still in a foul mood from her lack of successful research on the subject. What she wanted to know seemed impossible to find in books, she wanted step-by-step instructions on how she could teach herself Occlumency but in everything she's read thus far it says the learner needs an _instructor _to teach them.

Draco and his two female puppets trail behind Darcey as she leaves the library. Her free period has ended and her next class is Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape, whom she's been meaning to talk to about the incident on Christmas Eve but hasn't worked up the courage to confront him yet, afraid to bring up the tender subject for fear of the negative emotions that will surely stew inside her.

So far Darcey's been winning the battle against her depression. Forcing it down deep inside her in a dark place that she avoids revisiting. Instead of moping about and feeling sorry for herself, she's decided to take control of her life, using the emotional pain to her advantage, letting it fuel her towards her greatest ambition to vanquish the Dark Lord. A tragedy intended to destroy her has instead strengthened her, giving her life real purpose and direction. Ironically she should be thanking Voldemort for making her a more powerful threat.

Darcey takes her assigned seat next to Blaise Zabini in Defense Against the Dark Arts, noticing the absence of the two rather large Slytherins normally sitting directly in front of her, obscuring her view of the chalkboard.

Snape struts into class, his ebony robes flowing majestically behind him.

"_Before we start, I want your dementor essays."_ He drawls.

Just then a sweating and panting, out of breath Crabbe and Goyle burst into the classroom. Snape ignores them completely as he wordlessly collects their essays with the lazy flick of his wand. A moment later Harry Potter comes through the door.

"Late again, Potter." Observes Professor Snape coldly. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Crabbe and Goyle share a smug chuckle from in front of her.

Harry scowls at Professor Snape, before he roughly flings himself down into his seat on the other side of the room, next to Ronald Weasley.

Snape resumes addressing the classroom as a whole, "And I hope for your sakes they are better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if you will all open your books to page- _what is it, Mr. Finnigan?"_

"Sir," Says Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan. "I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the paper about an Inferius-"

"No, there wasn't." Interrupts Snape in a bored tone. Darcey's interest peaks as she wonders what they are discussing, having stopped reading the paper after Rita Skeeter's articles printed about her Father.

"But sir, I heard people talking-"

"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr. Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher." Snape explains coldly.

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject." Says Snape pointing suddenly towards the back of the room, his dark eyes fixated on Harry who seems to have been muttering something to Weasley. "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and ghost."

"_Er- well, ghosts are transparent."_ Says Harry.

"_Oh, very good."_ Comes Snape, his lip curling into a mocking smile. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. '_Ghosts are transparent._'" He scoffs.

Pansy Parkinson lets out an obnoxious giggle and Darcey notices Blaise Zabini next to her smirking along with several other Slytherins including Malfoy.

"Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid-" Replies Harry calmly but Darcey can see his green eyes swirling with anger.

"A five-year-old could have told us as much," Sneers Snape. "The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is not alive; it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth… and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, _transparent_."

"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" Bellows Ronald Weasley. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're not going to be asking, '_Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'_"

There's a ripple of laughter from the Gryffindor side of the classroom and Darcey smirks along with them, suppressing the urge to grin at the Gryffindor's witty comment. Her sense of humor has no prejudice.

There laughter quickly dies down at the death glare Professor Snape's casting the lot of them.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor." Snape growls. "I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room."

Harry opens his mouth to protest but Granger stops him, grabbing for his arm and muttering something under her breath that seems to hold him back from arguing with Snape.

"Now open your books to page two hundred and thirteen and read the first two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse…"

Darcey rummages in her bag for her textbook. When she turns back up she notices an elegant origami swan perched on her desk. She glances around the room to check that Snape is distracted before carefully unfolding the parchment. She realizes it's a note from Draco.

_'Meet me in the Room of Requirement after supper. –DM ' _

Darcey stares down blankly at his signature, noticing with amusement, that there's a doodled snake sprouting off the 'M'. She wonders if he always signs his initials so ridiculously before crumpling the note up and stowing it away in her robes.

An hour later Darcey silently bolts from the classroom, making it a habit as of late, to be one of the first students to leave the class, not wanting to take the risk of catching Snape alone incase he decides to approach her before she's ready to talk to him.

After supper Darcey heads to the Room of Requirement to meet her friend. As she rounds the bend, turning into the corridor, she notices a small girl clutching a set of brass scales.

Darcey scowls, knowing she can't open the room with a student standing right there. She's placed in a predicament as she awkwardly stands before a tapestry of two hippos in pink tutu's dancing ballet, pretending to admire it until the girl leaves.

Just then the girl drops the scales, causing them to clatter loudly against the stone floor. Darcey peers over at her, casting her a look that is meant to say '_What the hell's wrong with you, have you washed your hands in butter lately?' _

"Isn't there homework or something you should be doing?" Darcy sneers, annoyed with the girl's lingering presence that prevents her from meeting up with Draco.

Just then a set of ornate, gold doors reveals themselves, as if waiting to hear her voice and Draco appears through a sliver of the cracked open door, peaking his sleek, blond head outside.

"I told you she was coming, you idiot. You didn't have to drop the scales." Scolds Draco to the nervous looking first year. Darcey looks between them in utter confusion before he reaches out a hand to grab her arm, yanking her inside.

"_What in the bloody hell_-" Darcey begins

"It's Crabbe." Draco replies quickly, disappearing around a mountain of rubbish and forcing Darcey to jog in order to catch up with him.

"_Wait, what?"_ She demands in confusion, coming to walk briskly beside him.

It seems Draco knows exactly where they're going, confidently snaking through the maze-like pathway.

"_I just told you, it's Crabbe. The girl is Crabbe_." Draco snaps, irritated at having to repeat himself.

"_What do you mean it's Crabbe?_" Darcey demands from beside him. "_How?_"

"Polyjuice Potion. Remember we made some at the beginning of the year?" Says Draco. "Crabbe and Goyle have been transforming into students to keep an eye out when I'm in here. Since you told your nosy brother I'm a Death Eater, a second hasn't gone by that he isn't stalking me. I figured, he knew to look out for Crabbe and Goyle, but Potter isn't smart enough to suspect an innocent first year of keeping watch for me." Draco explains with a conceited smirk, clearly amazed by his own brilliance.

"That's actually really clever." Darcey replies in a mildly surprised tone.

Draco looks over at her from the corner of his eye, raising a light brow. "_You sound surprised? Haven't you realized by now that I'm pure genius_?" Draco arrogantly brags.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far." Darcey counters, casting him a cheeky smile and bringing his ego down a notch. "So what is it you needed to see me for?" She wonders.

Just then they round the last bend around a tall mountain of clutter. Darcey scans the small clearing set up to resemble a sitting area with a pair of moth eaten armchairs and two dusty, Victorian-era loveseats to form a square.

"What's this?" Darcey inquires, stopping on the spot.

"Just some place to hang out. I've been spending a lot of time here and needed a place to sit so I whipped this together. _Lovely _isn't it?" Draco replies sarcastically, carelessly kicking one of the armchairs for entertainment and then sneezing into his sleeve when a thick cloud of dust radiates from the contact.

Darcey pulls out her wand pointing it at each piece of antique furniture while nonverbally casting '_Scourgify_', a simple cleaning charm. The dust and thick scent of musk seems to have been lifted from the furniture, but the moth holes stubbornly remain.

Darcey takes a seat on one of the nearby couches, flinging herself down rather ungracefully before letting out a sigh of contentment. She's had a busy day.

"Don't get too comfortable just yet." Says Draco from behind her. Darcey cranes her neck to get a glimpse of him.

"_Why not?_" She whines.

"Because I'm going to teach you Occlumency and I must warn you, it's rather unpleasant."

"_You know Occlumency? You can instruct me?"_ Darcey confirms sounding awestruck, sitting up from the couch.

"_Yeah well, you helped me mend the vanishing cabinet with no questions asked. So I thought it was time I replay you for the favor_." Draco replies coolly, smirking as he notices Darcey nearly bouncing off her seat in sheer excitement.

"_Thank yo_u!" She grins, leaping from the couch.

"_Really Draco, this is_ _awesome_…" She adds genuinely, engulfing him in a tight hug. She gets whiff of his cologne and nearly melts, infatuated with the delicious scent. She untangles herself from him before she starts blushing again like an idiot.

For the next two hours Draco attempts to instruct her on how to shield her mind. He's aware he's not nearly as good a teacher as his Aunt Bellatrix had been, but it seems he isn't half bad, as his student finally manages to put up a flimsy barrier around her thoughts.

Darcey is breathing heavily, covered in a cold, clammy sweat. By now she's shed her heavy Slytherin robe and vest. Wearing just the constricting black tights, pleated gray skirt and half unbuttoned, wrinkled white blouse, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

She clutches the fabric of the armchair, bracing herself for the next attack.

"_Can we take a break, we've been at this for hours_." Darcey complains, as she begins to feel light headed and nauseous.

"Not until you manage a decent shield." Draco replies firmly from above her, staring down at his pupil with determination. He knows she's capable of doing this. Bellatrix had pushed him half the night and it wasn't until she finally intruded upon some extremely personal memories that Draco had found the strength to finally block her.

So far Draco had only penetrated the shallow layers of Darcey's mind, the part housing the pleasant, easier memories and emotions. Maybe he had to dig deeper, invade those deeper, hidden memories.

Darcey scowls up at Draco, who seems to now be abusing his position of power over her as her instructor. '_Is he mad? It's just not possible to learn this sort of skill over night. I need to rest, regroup and then perhaps we can try this again tomorrow.' _

It's been hours they've been at this and Darcey was certain Draco had relived nearly her entire childhood. He saw her older brother Roger first teaching her to ride a broomstick. Darcey and Tracey as little girls, dressed up in their mother's dress robes and drinking invisible tea from their porcelain tea set, pretending to be sophisticated, wealthy women of society. Darcey and her siblings running around like wild banshees in their back garden, armed with twigs and pretending to hex each other with obnoxious sound effects, while shrieking with laughter. He saw all those merry Christmas days of past, where Darcey helped bake sugar cookies with her mum, opened her stacks of presents, and admired that enchanted, twinkling star atop their Christmas tree, her innocent blue eyes glistening with wonder. He saw her cheering with her family at the Quidditch World Cup and staying up half those summer nights, curled up on her bed, reading and studying magic with such passion. She had an ambition early on for greatness and an impressive thirst for knowledge.

He had seen nearly everything, at least all the pleasant memories Darcey revisited when she often recounted her childhood.

Without warning Draco invades her, penetrating through the thick layers of her mind. There's something different about this time though, his magic is suddenly more powerful, tearing through her memories and digging deeper to parts Darcey herself had forgotten, memories and emotions subconsciously buried away deep inside her.

Her teeth gnaw together as her jaw tightens, she groans in pain. It feels as if a sharp blade is slicing through her head, repeatedly cutting through her temple.

"_Stop!"_ Darcey pleads through clenched teeth, but Draco doesn't stop, instead revisiting a few of those dark memories against Darcey's will.

A younger version of Darcey, around nine years old, clutches tightly to a red railing overlooking a magnificent, roaring waterfall. Her light brown hair whips wildly in the wind emitting from the force of the cascading body of water.

Her eyes squint in the summer sunlight, tan freckles bridge across her nose. Draco can feel as vividly as he feels his own emotions; the emptiness the tiny girl feels as she stares sadly ahead of her.

Her head turns to the side, gazing over at her adopted family taking a picture together in front of a blue sign that says '_Niagara Falls, Ontario Canada' _

'_I don't belong. I'm not really their daughter, not by blood. They love Tracey and Roger more than me. They'd be happier without me.'_ A dark part of her whispers to her that the water looks tempting. Darcey's bright blue eyes follow the tail of the dark, rushing water. She takes a step closer to it, clutching the railing so tightly that her small, slender fingers turn white.

Darcey's father catches sight of his daughter, excluding herself from the family portrait. "Dar, get over here!" He calls, casting her a warm smile. Darcey reluctantly joins them, aware that she's just pretending to be a part of their family. They can't really love her. At least not the way they love their _real_ children. Darcey's just a spare. She realizes with deep resentment.

"_Stop!_" Darcey yells out again, feeling the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she relives the melancholy memory, feeling that it's private and she doesn't want Draco seeing it.

Draco grips tighter to his wand as he's submerged in Darcey's raging memories. He's drowning in the sorrow, the emptiness, the bitter jealousy, and rage. He feels vividly all the negative emotions she keeps bottled away deep inside her.

As if watching a roll of film, another scene unfolds.

Darcey's older now, age twelve or thirteen. She's gathered at a slumber party with a handful of other girls in a lilac painted room. The dark purple butterflies painted on the wall above a set of twin bunk beds are bewitched to flutter gracefully. Sitting in a circle are pre-teen versions of Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Tracey and Darcey Davis, and Daphne's younger sister by two years, Astoria.

The room is dimly lit for the exception of a lit lantern, which Pansy holds up in such a way that harsh shadows cross her face as she tells a scary tale about a vampire who feasts upon the blood of little girls.

"Legend has it he comes out of the bathroom mirror and takes a bite out of your neck. _Argh!_" Pansy chomps into the air for dramatic effect. "He drains your blood until your veins shrivel up and your heart stops beating, having no longer any blood to pump."

"_That's not true_." One of the girls skeptically argues. The gaggle of girls turns to Darcey, her hands crossed stubbornly over her chest. Her curly hair is pulled up in a ponytail with a few strands framing her face. She wears a set of light blue pajamas with puffy white clouds on them and little yellow stars.

Pansy rises from her spot on the floor, her satin pink nightgown fanning around her ankles. "_Oh yeah?"_ She sneers. "_If you're so sure why don't you try it then, go on!"_

"What?" Darcey deadpans. "Just go stand in the bathroom and wait for a vampire to come out of the mirror?" Darcey confirms, bravely standing up, ready to step up to the so-called challenge.

"You have to do it in total darkness and you have to say his name seven times." Pansy clarifies, her lips curling into a wicked grin.

"_Fine."_ Says Darcey firmly, trudging through a connected white door that leads into a small washroom.

The girls close the door behind her and shut off the light switch so that she's cloaked in a thick blanket of darkness. Draco can feel for himself as her heartbeat rises in anxiety. She begins to chant the name.

"_Sitis Sanguis…"_ Darcey hisses, testing the name out on her tongue. She slowly repeats it, hesitating on the seventh turn but following through with it.

For a moment nothing happens and then there's a brief flash of light as the light bulb overhead illuminates and then shatters, engulfing the bathroom in pitch black. Darcey screams as shards of glass rain down upon her.

She gropes for the handle of the door, tugging and pulling but it's locked. Terror floods her as a demonic, low voice fills the small, confined space.

"_I've been waiting for you, Darcey."_ Growls the deep, frightening male voice.

Adrenaline pumps through her as her fists pound against the door. She can hear the girls giggling from the other side. "_Let me out! There's someone in here!"_ Darcey shouts, still banging violently against the door. "_This isn't funny! Let me out!"_

Darcey shudders as the temperature suddenly shifts in the bathroom, it's freezing cold. She shrivels into a ball on the cool tiled floor, pressing her back against the tub. She buries her head into her knees, wrapping her arms tightly around herself for comfort and warmth. Tears streak down her face as she sobs in fear, whimpering as something cold prickles against the exposed skin of her neck.

Finally the door opens and the bathroom is flooded with the warm, yellow light radiating from Daphne and Astoria's bedroom.

"_She's crying! She's actually crying!"_ Shrieks Pansy from the threshold.

Darcey stays huddle, frozen in a ball on the floor, too terrified to move.

"_Darcey, it's okay. It was just a stupid prank_." Comes Tracey's voice from beside her as she kneels down next to her scared sister.

Darcey finally lifts her head up slowly. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden bright light.

"It was just a poltergeist. Our house is haunted." Says Daphne with a giggle. "_Were you seriously scared?" _She frowns, feeling a bit guilty that the prank had gone too far.

Darcey doesn't answer, her wide, fearful blue eyes narrowing into a hard glare. She slowly stands up on wobbly knees, her body still shaking from fear.

"Merlin Darcey, you're bleeding. Somebody fetch a towel." Tracey frowns, examining the small bloody cuts on Darcey's exposed arms from the shattered light bulb.

Black smoke fills the memory as the scene shifts once more to the Quidditch World Cup. Draco remembers this match; he had attended it with his father before his fourth year of Hogwarts.

There's fire blazing everywhere, people shrieking as their tents go up in flames. A group of Death Eaters march through the hillside, torturing and killing anyone in their path, whether it be man, woman or child.

Darcey and Roger have been separated from their parents in the chaos. Roger grips tightly to Darcey's wrist as they weave through the screaming crowd. Fire shoots from above them, barely missing their heads and green curses hit the people around them, turning them to dust as they disintegrate into ash.

Roger leads them into the woods, letting go of his sister's wrist as they sprint through the forest brush, dodging vines and jumping over fallen logs, sharp thorny tree limbs whip at them as they pass, slicing into their skin but they don't stop running.

Darcey finally stops, folding in half to rest her hands on her knees as she catches her breath. She's panting and sweating, her hair clinging to her neck and face.

"Get out your wand." Roger commands, his voice dry and raspy from running.

Darcey obeys her wise older brother, drawing her wand from the back pocket of her jeans as she glances around them at the shadowy trees for any signs of being followed.

After a moment a twig snaps, just as a tall, lanky, dark haired man jumps through the bushes and into the clearing. He points his wand at them, his lips curling into a smile. Darcey will remember this man forever, as he was later identified as Barty Crouch Jr., a Death Eater struck with insanity.

"_Well, well, what do we have here?" _The man taunts, encircling them like a vulture to road kill.

"Stay away from her!" Roger bellows, noticing the perverted glint in his eyes as he stares hungrily at Darcey. His tongue flicks against his lips like a lizard, it appears to be some sort of nervous twitch.

_"Stupefy!"_ Roger shouts.

The Death Eater easily blocks the stunner, casting a nonverbal hex that throws Roger hard against a nearby tree. He crumples to the ground unconscious, bright, fresh blood oozing from the back of his skull.

Darcey let's out a cry as she makes a run for her brother, feeling overwhelmed with panic. She needs to make sure that he's alright.

She does the stupidest thing she could possibly do when put in a dangerous situation, she turns her back on her predator.

A pair of strong arms snake around her waist, tackling her roughly to the forest floor. Dry leaves crunch beneath them as they roll around in the dirt with Darcey struggling against him with all her might. Draco observes that for a fourteen-year-old girl she puts up a good fight.

Darcey let's out a feral scream before biting hard into his hand, drawing blood. He let's out a low growl as he slaps her, sending her head back into the dirt.

He straddles her, his bleeding hand cupping her mouth to muffle her screams.

"_I'm going to shove my dick inside you_." The man whispers huskily into her ear. She struggles against him, her screaming muffled by his hand.

"_And you're going to scream and thrash but it won't matter sweetheart, I'll have my way with you."_ He hisses stroking her cheek tenderly with his free hand, wiping away the sweat and tears sliding down her face.

Darcey's wide, watery blue eyes peer up at him, silently pleading for him to stop. '_Please! Please don't do this! You can't do this!'_ She mentally begs. '_Not like this, it can't happen like this.'_

"_I bet you're a virgin._" Purrs the disgusting man above her. "_Yes, they get wet so easily..."_

His free hand moves to grope the outside of her jeans between her thighs. She sobs louder, but his hand muffles the noise.

She clenches her eyes shut tight. She can no longer stand to look at the monster above her.

She feels him fumbling with a shaky hand to unbutton her jeans. Tears streak down her face and her body trembles in rage and fear.

_'I'll fucking kill you!'_ Darcey mentally screams, her eyes still shut tight as he painfully grips her chin.

"_Look at me!"_ The Death Eater bellows angrily. Darcey's eyes snap open, staring up into a pair of murky, hazel ones. "_I want to see the look on your face when I cum inside you."_

"_Shhh…"_ The man hisses, pressing his weight against her. His cold tongue glides up the side of her face, as he tastes her salty skin.

Darcey mumbles inaudible words into the palm of his hand, glaring with furious blue eyes up at him.

He releases his hand from her mouth just long enough for her to growl, "_You rape me you filthy bastard, and I'll chop off your fucking dick!"_

Rage flashes in his eyes as he fumbles with his trousers, pulling out his dick but Darcey doesn't see it. She doesn't look down, just stares straight above her at the green, forest canopy. She catches sight of the blue summer sky in between the rustling, green leaves. She focuses on those leaves dancing in the wind… On the pretty blue sky and puffy white clouds and not on the disgusting piece of shit who's seconds away from raping her.

Darcey accepts her fate, feeling oddly empty and detached. Her mind zones out as a way of coping with the stress of what is about to happen, but then a flash of light and the man is thrown off of her. She sits up, shuffling backwards using her feet and hands to propel her, putting as much distance between herself and the pervert as she can.

A group of Aurors, she later learns their names as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody, burst into the clearing. They easily disarm the man and descend upon him. The only female Auror, a woman with bright pink hair rushes over to Darcey, her eyes glistening with concern. "_Are you alright?"_

Black fog engulfs the memory as Draco is violently ripped from Darcey's mind. He stumbles back clutching the arm of the couch to prevent him from falling back.

Darcey did it. She successfully forced Draco from her mind. She performed Occlumency.

Draco gazes with wide eyes at the raging girl before him, who rises to stand on shaking knees. She grips her wand tightly, pointing it directly at Draco. Her face is ghostly pale and beads of sweat have formed on her clammy forehead. Her eyes pierce through him, dark and stormy, swirling with rage.

"_How dare you!"_ Darcey seethes. Draco shudders, never having heard her sound so venomous. She actually looks murderous and eerily similar to his deranged Aunt Bellatrix.

_"I-I'm sorry. I was just trying-" _Draco stutters.

"_Stay away from me!"_ Darcey yells, sending a blue hex spiraling towards him. He's propelled backwards a good twenty feet and lands with a loud thump on his back.

He groans in pain, the force of the fall having knocked the wind straight out of him.

He manages to sit up, clutching his wand and pointing it at her, now prepared to defend himself.

"_I don't want to fight you."_ Says Draco firmly.

_"Reducto!" _

Draco rolls to his left, barely missing the attack as the powerful spell blasts straight through the pile of rubbish behind him, sending random junk soaring the room and clattering to the floor.

Draco quickly gets back on his feet, knowing now that Darcey's seriously enraged and intent on hurting him.

"_Calm down_." Draco soothes, holding his arms up in surrender. He really has no desire to fight her.

"_Those memories were private."_ Darcey growls, lowering her wand slightly as she realizes she's spiraling out of control and could have seriously hurt Draco. Her magic crackles through the air, lashing out at him.

"_I know, I'm sorry_." Draco agrees sincerely, his eyes glistening with guilt.

Darcey finally lowers her wand completely, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

_"I just don't understand why you would do that… I asked you to stop. Why didn't you stop?"_ Darcey whimpers, clutching her face in her hands as she feels herself crying against her will. It's obvious she's still shaken from the painful memories she's been forced to relive. Memories she's spent years trying to forget.

"_It was selfish. I got carried away, I know_." Draco frowns, his chest constricting painfully at seeing Darcey so broken and knowing that he's what caused her to fall apart like this.

Draco cautiously approaches her, reaching out to lightly brush his hand against her shoulder to test the waters. She doesn't shrink back from him or lash out in anger. She lifts her head slowly to peer up at him with watery, blue eyes that swirl with unreadable emotions.

Draco pulls her tightly into him, pressing her against his chest as he tightly embraces her. She buries her head into the crook of his neck and he can feel her hot, steady breathing against him. A pleasant shiver snakes down his spine as he runs his hands through her tangled, messy hair. He inhales her scent, she smells faintly of lavender shampoo.

A warm feeling swells in his chest, a longing to be closer to her. He can't hold back any longer.

Draco tilts up her head, gently tugging a fistful of her hair so she is forced to look at him. His eyes darken with desire.

Feeling the same longing, Darcey softly presses her lips to his before he can make the move.

Time seems to slow down. Everything negative clears from Darcey's mind as she focuses solely on Draco's warm, inviting lips against her. She feels herself flushing, not with embarrassment but with desire. She feels heat radiate through her body, engulfing her with raw, burning passion.

Both of them are in sync, feeling the same desperate need. Neither has to initiate as their lips move together in unison, both deepening the kiss.

They stand there snogging for what feels like forever but is probably only a few, amazing minutes. Finally they pull apart for air, gazing at each other with equally, dark, lusty eyes.

Darcey moves her gaze over his now slightly swollen lips. Her hand snakes up to the nape of his neck where his hairline and collar meet. His hands have moved down to rest lightly against her hips.

_"I'm sorry."_ Draco whispers. "_I shouldn't have-"_

"_It's okay."_ Darcey quietly interrupts. "Thank you, for teaching me. You did what you had to and it _worked._ I did it_."_ Darcey manages a small smile, truly happy with what a successful evening this turned out to be, and not just the Occlumeny lessons…

"_That filthy piece of dung is lucky he's safe in Azkaban or else he'd be dead by tomorrow morning_." Draco seethes, referring to her last memory.

Darcey smiles, broader this time. _"Wow, that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me..." _Darcey admits with a soft laugh.

Draco's lip twitches up into a smirk, unable to stay angry with Darcey standing right here, beaming up at him with that gorgeous, contagious smile of hers.

_"Just wait." _Draco whispers, his lips brushing against her earlobe as he places a sensual trail of kisses down her neck, sending shivers down her spine.


	15. Chapter 15: Realizations

It's a chilly day in March and for the first time it's not snowing, raining or sleeting. The grounds are still wet from the melted winter snow but the students don't get drenched in any form of water for the first time in a long while.

It's an overcast, gloomy, early spring day and some lucky students with spring birthdays prepare to take their Apparition exams today at Hogsmeade.

The 12-week Apparition lessons have nearly come to a close and both Darcey and Draco felt confident that they would pass the exams when the time came to take their test at the end of May. This was the very last exam date intended for all students who would be turning seventeen over the summer holiday break.

Darcey had finally managed to apparate for the first time nearly a month ago. She was among some of the more naturally gifted students who managed it early on, including Draco, Harry, Theodore Nott, Susan Bones, once she recovered from being splinched, Granger, Zacharius Smith, whom she had purposely avoided since Slughorn's Christmas party, Looney Lovegood, Terry Boot and Cho Chang. The rest of the student body still struggled and there were extra lessons being held in Hogsmeade today for those who need a little more practice.

Not being one of the students going for extra lessons nor to take the Apparition exam Darcey and Draco went to Hogsmeade today purely for something fun to do.

A gaggle of Slytherins walked down the cobblestone pathway alongside them, Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Greengrass with a sulking Parkinson bringing up the rear.

"_Oh, look it's filthy mud-blood Granger and poor ol' weasel-bee."_ Draco sneered, speeding up to a brisk strut as he approached them.

Darcey frowns, her face forming a hard, thin line, not in the least bit entertained by Draco's shenanigans. He was being immature, picking fights for no good reason.

Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger glance up from their place in line outside the Three Broomsticks pub where the exams and spare lessons were being held.

"_Sod off Malfoy."_ Weasley grumbles, attempting to ignore the Slytherin. Darcey heard rumors of him being poisoned by a bottle of mead and wondered if he was still recovering.

"_Watch your mouth you filthy blood-traitor."_ Malfoy spat, roughly shoving Weasley in the shoulder, causing the burly ginger haired boy to stumble back slightly.

His pale blue eyes narrowed at Draco before he drew his wand, pointing it at the group of Slytherins threateningly.

"_It's not worth it Ronald. He's pathetic."_ Granger pleads from beside him, catching his arm.

"What was that _mud-blood?_ Didn't catch that?" Draco taunts with a smirk. "Could you speak up a little so the blokes in the back can here your brilliant and original come back?"

Granger straightens up taller, tilting her chin a little higher, as if to give an air of superiority about her. Her brown eyes glisten with anger. "_I said you're pathetic!"_

Just then there's a flash of light that soars from Draco's wand and towards the Gryffindor mud-blood as he hexes her.

"_Protego!_" She counters in the blink of an eye, casting a blue shield in front of her.

_"Stupefy!"_ Ron bellows from beside her. His hex soars over Malfoy's left shoulder and crashes into Goyle who's knocked to the ground unconscious.

"_Reducto!"_ Pansy emerges from the back. Her spell hits Weasley sending him crashing against the thick, wooden door of the pub. It splinters into sharp pieces as his body breaks through it. He's flung to the ground with a groan of pain.

Hermione Granger looks furious, literally shaking with rage.

She casts a silent jinx that hits Pansy. She's turned upside down, dangling in midair by her ankles. She shrieks, thrashing and struggling as she punches the air above her.

"_Incarcerous!"_ Blaise Zabini's low voice hisses from somewhere behind Darcey. Thick ropes shoots from his wand, constricting around a distracted Hermione who was too busy shielding herself from another onslaught of hexes from Malfoy and Nott.

_'Fumos'_ Darcey quickly casts a non-verbal spell, noticing that Granger is vastly outnumbered, it would be unfair to let them attack her. Thick, black smog cloaks the air around them destructing their view.

She steps forward a few paces, groping through the air for the Gryffindor girl. She grabs her arm and Hermione shrieks in surprise, not expecting someone to touch her and unnerved at being unable to see him or her.

"_Leave now_." Darcey commands in a low whisper, performing the counter-curse to the binding spell and setting Granger free. Darcey steps back near her peers, bumping into a solid, muscled figure.

As the smoke disperses she cranes her neck to see that she's pressed against Zabini's tall, stoic figure. She moves quickly away from him with an embarrassed blush, muttering a sheepish apology to the handsome veela.

_"Where'd she run off to?"_ Daphne demands in confusion, looking around the cobblestone village square.

"Back into the pub, looks like she's brought help." Blaise states coolly, his amber eyes fixated on a group of Gryffindors, including Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley, along with a bar maid now angrily rushing towards them.

_"Let's go!"_ Draco shouts out, not wanting to get into trouble. He leads the gang of Slytherins down a nearby deserted, dark alley.

"_Come back!"_ Pansy shrieks, still dangling helplessly in the air as her classmates abandon her.

_"This is all your fault. Why you had to be so stupid-"_ Darcey hisses but is cut off by Draco roughly yanking her inside the back entrance of a random shop.

The other Slytherins follow at their heel, all squeezing through the door.

Darcey glances around and notices they're in a dress shop.

"Romilda's Robe Emporium." Daphne observes. "I bought my Yule Ball gown in here." She smiles at the fond memory.

Darcey eyes a nearby rack of casual dresses, all dark and a bit medieval looking with leather corsets and long ankle length skirts. She's seen wealthy, pureblood witches dressed in gowns like these for everyday wear.

The rest of the gang, for the exception of Draco, move to the front shop window, peering outside as they wait for the coast to clear. Daphne lags behind, disappearing behind another large rack of garments.

"See something you like?" Draco asks smoothly from behind her. He's leaning elegantly against the wall, his hands deep in the pockets of his black trousers.

"Not really my style but then again, I haven't any clothes. I suppose beggars can't be choosers." Darcey frowns, gesturing to her outfit which consists of the only casual clothes she owns, a navy v-neck t-shirt, a charcoal gray cardigan and a pain of worn jeans.

"Pick out a few that you fancy." Says Draco.

Darcey casts him a sheepish look. "I haven't any money, used my last Galleons to pay for Apparition lessons."

_"I figured that much."_ Draco sneers in mild irritation at how thick Darcey's being. As if he'd ever let her pay for herself even if she had the money. He was a gentleman and the Malfoy's were raised up to flaunt their wealth, so it was an insult that she thought him cheap enough not to pay for her. She was after all his date.

"I'll pay _obviously._" Draco rolls his eyes in exasperation.

A shadow crosses over Darcey's face, her pride wounded. "_I can't let you do that." _She replies in a serious tone. She'd rather go without clothes than resort to begging and borrowing money. It was demeaning to suddenly find herself so poverty stricken.

"_Fine, then I'll pick some out myself and gift them to you."_ Draco growls, brushing past her and yanking a few random dresses violently off the rack, not bothering to care to check their sizes.

_"Fine, give me that you're making a mess_." Darcey snaps, taking the dresses off him and rearranging them back on the rack.

"I'll try on these two." Darcey finally decides, picking out a pair of the plainest, cotton dresses she could find, most of the others made of heavy, stifling fabrics.

Darcey meets Daphne over near one of the changing stalls, slipping into the stall next to her.

"You'll have to show me yours and I'll show you mine. You have to be completely honest and tell me if they look hideous." Daphne calls from over the dressing wall.

"_Yeah, sure._" Darcey mutters in disinterest, quickly shedding her clothes and slipping the soft, light gray dress over her head. It's surprisingly comfortably and breathable despite how it clings to her. It's a short sleeve maxi style number with a black leather corset on the outside waist part and a plunging, round neckline that boarders revealing a tad too much cleavage for Darcey's liking but she decides the ankle length makes up for it in modesty. She was never the type of girl to flaunt her curves and sexualize her body. She preferred comfort and practicality of an outfit, and having her breasts exposed during a duel wasn't very practical.

The next dress is dark, pine green and long sleeved, made of the same airy cotton material. It's ankle length with a similar neckline and brown leather corset. She emerges from the stall remembering that Daphne had asked to see her. She leans against the doorframe as she waits for her friend to emerge from the dressing room. Darcey notices Draco eyeing her from the corner of her eye and turns to meet his piercing gaze.

"Do I look ridiculous?" Darcey wonders chewing on her lip as she begins to feel self conscious under his intense stare.

"_Not at all_." Draco counters in mild surprise. "_It looks good on you."_ He compliments, his gray eyes lingering on her exposed cleavage. She reaches out to playfully shove him away.

"_Keep staring long enough and it might turn see through_." Darcey smirks in amusement.

A dull flush falls over Draco's cheeks at being caught so blatantly checking her out. He hadn't even attempted to mask it, caught so off guard by the sudden dirty images of Darcey the dress stirred within him.

Daphne emerges from the fitting room dressed in a tulle-lined, puffy black gown.

"_Lovely_." Darcey compliments in a dull tone.

"That's a wonderful everyday dress, but why not try on some formal ones for fun?" Daphne suggests with a grin, twirling around in front of a full-length mirror while admiring the satin gown.

"_No offense, but trying on dresses all morning isn't really my idea of fun." _Darcey replies truthfully, trying to keep her tone as gentle as possible as to not hurt the girl's feelings.

_"Merlin, you're such a man."_ Daphne teases, rolling her blue eyes. "Where's Pansy when I need her-" She stops, a look of horror crossing her face. "_Blimey! We left her back there didn't we?"_ Daphne shrieks, rushing out the front door of the shop and trying not to trip and step all over her dress as she sprints down the lane back up towards the pub.

_"Oi!"_ The owner of the shop calls after her, "_You have to pay for that!"_

"She'll be back." Darcey calmly offers, before disappearing into a nearby changing stall to switch back out of the dress and into her clothes.

An hour later Draco and Darcey sit alone on a bench outside of Honeyduke's, with Draco licking a lollipop that turns his tongue blue and Darcey picking at a box of chocolate frogs, her two new dresses in a shopping bag beside her.

"So I've been thinking a lot about what happened on Christmas Eve." Darcey begins in a hushed tone, careful that passerby's can't ease drop on them.

Draco glances over at her, his face unreadable. He listens silently as she continues confiding in him.

"I don't think I told you but Snape was there. The first to arrive and he hexed me, forcing me down behind the couch. Weird right?" Hisses Darcey, noticing Draco's light brow raised and a curious glint in his gray eyes.

"He was obviously protecting me which is odd. If any of the others- your father- _Voldemort_ had saw him-"

_"Don't say-"_ Draco begins to scold but Darcey talks over him.

"-He would be dead. So why risk his life to protect me? Who am I to him other than his student?" Darcey wonders with a frown, her eyes glistening with suspicion.

"So, I kept thinking for months now, why would he do that? Why would he protect me and how did they find me? How did they know who I was and where I lived?" Darcey adds her voice taking on an angry tone as a dark shadow crosses over her face. "Unless you told Vol-"

_"I didn't."_ Draco interrupts firmly.

"_Exactly, so if it wasn't you then who else is left that knows? My parents? Harry? Dumbledore? Snape? That's all right. That's everybody who knew at the time… So, what if Snape felt guilty. What if he had been the one to rat me out to Vol-"_

"_The Dark Lord-"_" Darcey hisses, noticing Draco's mouth begin to open in protest. "_What if he was the one who told the Dark Lord of the prophecy as a way to gain his Master's favor and then-_" Darcey's voice rises a level with excitement and rage.

_"-Then what if he felt bad about it and tried to make up for what he'd done by hiding me. He tried to save me in order to quell his own remorse."_

"It's possible, I suppose." Draco shrugs, his face looking stony and serious. "But I wouldn't go picking a fight with Snape based solely on this theory, I'd make certain first that-"

_"Who says I'm going to pick a fight with him?"_ Darcey demands.

"You're hot-headed and reckless. You don't think through the consequences of your actions you just… _act_." Draco replies, his face scrunching up into a disapproving look of disgust as if those are Gryffindor qualities and a Slytherins shouldn't possess them.

"_Maybe, you have a point."_ Darcey admits, swallowing her pride. _"But don't you agree that I have a right to be angry?"_

"Of course you do." Draco instantly agrees without hesitation. "But if it's revenge you're seeking you have to be clever to go about it the _right way_." Draco explains wisely, as if he's had years of experience in this area.

Darcey frowns, feeling an inner turmoil of conflicting emotions towards her professor. "I'm not sure I _want _revenge." Darcey admits quietly. "I just… I guess I just want to know _why_. Why did he do it? I want to hear it straight from him. I want him to say it to my face, tell me why he betrayed me and then I'll go from there and decide how to handle it." Darcey reasons maturely.

"_So, you just want to have a nice, little chat with him, eh?"_ Draco scoffs in disbelief. "_Maybe cozy up next to the fire and pour yourselves a cup of tea while you're at it." _Draco sneers.

Darcey resists the urge to grin, when he says it like that it _does _sound a bit ridiculous. Her smile fades into a deep scowl as Draco continues on furiously.

"_Aren't you angry? He may be the reason your brother's dead. He may be the reason your family abandoned you and left you there to die!"_

"_You think I'm not angry? You think I don't know that? Of course I'm angry and would eagerly seek revenge upon him if my theory turns out to be true, but he was my friend, Draco. I thought he cared about me. He was something like a second father to me. So before I seek vengeance upon him doesn't he at least owe me an explanation? Don't I deserve to have him look me in the eye and tell me the truth?_" Says Darcey, furious, bitter tears threatening to spill from her eyes. It deeply hurt her that Snape would betray her. Why did it seem everyone who was supposed to care about her ended up leaving her? Was she not worthy of their love? Was she just some pathetic, disposable orphan whom nobody would miss?

Darcey stands up suddenly from the bench, tossing the uneaten chocolate frogs violently into a nearby trashcan before storming back up to the castle. Draco knows better than to follow her when she gets in these kinds of moods. She's dangerous and reckless when she's angry, he had said so himself and if he dared to come between her and her sudden determination to confront Snape, she would surely attack him.

As she ascends the stone steps of the castle a familiar voice calls out to her. "What are you doing?"

"_Not now Harry."_ Growls Darcey through clenched teeth. Where had he suddenly come from? Had he been following her? Malfoy had said that her brother had been stalking him for weeks now, had he been listening in on their conversation somehow? Darcey wonders.

"I won't let you go in there alone." Says Harry, suddenly oddly protective of his sister. Darcey finally stops, whipping around to face him.

She peers down at him with narrowed, stormy blue eyes. He's clutching the banister a step below her, looking up at her with rigid determination. She can tell he's not going to let this go.

"You were spying on me." It's not a question, it's a statement and she hopes for Harry's sake he's bright enough not to lie to her when she's this upset.

"I was spying on _Malfoy._" Harry clarifies, not looking the least bit intimidated by the death glare Darcey's casting him.

"You're obsessed with him. You seriously need help. _Are you in love with him?_" Darcey demands haughtily.

"_No!"_ Harry bellows in disgust. "I just want to know what he's up to. I know you've seen him disappear into the Room of Requirement. You've even gone in with him-"

"_To snog!_" Darcey growls, cutting him off.

Harry's bright green eyes widen in surprise. He definitely wasn't expecting to hear that from his sister. "_What?_" He demands icily, a dark shadow crossing over his face.

"_You heard me, Potter."_ Darcey sneers. "We sneak off into the Room of Requirement to _snog!_" Darcey repeats slowly, deliberately toying with him. "And, I think it's none of your damn business what we do, so if you would so kindly leave my boyfriend the hell alone or else I might suspect you're after him, _and I don't like sharing my toys, Harry."_ Darcey says seductively, knowing the idea of her and Draco together as an item is really eating away at him. He's her _brother _of course it comes naturally to him to hate any boy she's dating, even if they're hardly considered siblings.

"That-" Harry shudders. "_That's disgusting."_

Darcey turns away, pleased to be done with him. Just then a warm hand clasps tightly to her wrist, pulling her back. Harry let's go of her when she turns back around to face him.

"_Tell me what he's really up to."_ Says Harry, still extremely determined to get answers from her.

"Honestly Harry, I dunno." Darcey replies truthfully while sighing in frustration, growing thoroughly annoyed with his persistence.

_"You really don't know?"_ Harry raises a dark brow from under his disheveled bangs, his tone skeptical.

_"I __**really **__don't know_." Darcey answers softly yet firmly, hoping he hears the honesty in her voice.

"Aren't you curious as to what he's doing in there all day? Don't you want to know what he's planning?" Harry asks in bewilderment.

Darcey sighs once more in frustration, while running her fingers through her hair. "I've got other things I'm busy with right now. I don't have the time or the energy to obsess over Draco like you do_. I have a life."_

Harry snorts in laughter. "_A life? Really? Says the girl lost behind a pile of books all week long in the library." _Harry gently mocks her, grinning in good nature.

"_Shut up."_ Darcey grumbles, slightly wounded by his observation. Apparently to her peers she was nothing but a loser. _'I'll show them.'_ Darcey vows.

_"Look_," Harry sighs, his tone shifting to serious. "Snape's a Death Eater. You'd be stupid to face him alone; especially if you go storming in they're accusing him of something that could get him into a lot of trouble. _Let me come with you_." Harry insists.

_"No."_ Darcey replies stubbornly as she briskly jogs up the rest of the stairs and into the Entrance Hall, deviating towards the dungeons where Snape's old office remains as Professor Slughorn took the more spacious one near the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.

"Well I'm coming with you anyways." Harry stubbornly retorts.

A few minutes later Darcey raps upon Snape's door.

"_Enter._" Drawls the Professor.

His ebony eyes soften at the sight of Darcey, but then harden in hatred as he spots Harry trailing closely behind her. The office is small and damp. Water drips steadily from a tap somewhere and the room smells faintly of mold. The space is illuminated with dim, flickering candles held in waxy sconces. Professor Snape sets down his quill, taking a break from grading a large stack of essays.

"The Potter twins, what an _honor_." Says Snape coldly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Darcey feels the rage boiling inside her. She hates that he's suddenly talking to her as if she means nothing to him, as if she's a mere creature of filth.

"_I think you know exactly why I'm here."_ Darcey says icily, her fists clenching.

Snape's expression is unreadable. Never before has she spoken with such hatred and contempt towards him.

"I can imagine why _you're _here, but as to why _he's _here-"

Before Harry can answer Darcey speaks up proudly from beside him, "He's my brother, sir. Why wouldn't he be here?" Darcey asks calmly.

"_He never seemed to care much for you before, if I correctly recall."_ Says Snape slowly, his lightless eyes fixated on Darcey's dark, murky blue ones.

"_It's surprising to see him supporting you now. Tell me Potter, why the change of heart?"_ He address Harry who seems to be doing equally as well as his sister at keeping himself collected.

"She's my sister, sir and although we have our differences. _I would never betray her."_ Harry answers calmly.

_"Is there something more you wish to say to me, Potter?"_ Says Snape flatly, his expression bored and blank but his eyes glistening with anger.

_"Yes, Professor. There indeed is something more I'd like to say._" Darcey speaks up taking ownership of their shared last name, showing she's proud to be a Potter.

Snape's ebony eyes land on her as he slowly rises from his desk, towering over them. His chair screeches unpleasantly against the stone floor causing Darcey's jaw to tighten.

_"Why?"_ Darcey say quietly after a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. _She had trusted him._

_"Why did you betray me to the Dark Lord?"_ She asks bluntly, getting straight to the point. She wills her voice to remain steady despite the sorrow and rage ripping at her, tearing her apart.

Snape moves to the front of his oak desk, stepping out from the shadows as the warm light of the sconces illuminates his pale, sallow face.

Darcey peers up at the washed-out man before her, almost feeling pity for him. It's clear the burdens of life have taken a toll on him. He looks older, tired even. His eyes glisten with hints of deep, repressed sadness, barely visible unless you're this close, inches away and gazing up at him.

"I did what had to be done and I tried my best to protect you." Snape replies in a hollow tone, that Darcey misinterprets as being insincere.

_"Screw you!"_ Darcey suddenly shouts, his empty words send her over the edge as she lets go of her self-control.

"_You pathetic coward!"_ She seethes with hatred, drawing her wand and pressing it firmly into his chest.

Harry gazes between them in horror. Even he has enough restraint to know not to assault a teacher. Darcey could be expelled.

Snape steps back with her, his coal-black eyes momentarily widening in surprise. He hadn't expected Darcey to react with such raw fury, clearly outraged. It came on so strongly and suddenly, leaving him no time for him to react. His hands grip the edge of his desk as he's backed against it with Darcey's wand still jabbing painfully into his chest.

_"You liar!"_ She continues, her dark magic crackling around her, lashing out at both Snape and Harry. Harry shrinks back a little, taking a few steps away from the deranged girl.

Snape gropes for the wand stowed away in the pocket of his long, black robes but isn't quick enough, still caught off guard.

'_Legilimens.'_ Darcey performs the spell nonverbally to ensure that he doesn't expect it. She successfully breaches the barriers shielding Snape's mind that have temporarily weakened with his shock.

She sifts through the memories with purpose, her intent guiding her magic as it brings to surface the memory she's look for, the truth.

She witnesses the private conversation that took place between Snape and Dumbledore a few months ago on the morning of Christmas Eve. She sees enough to understand now the truth, just as Snape regains control over his mind and violently expels her from it.

She stumbles back roughly, clutching a nearby desk for support as she nearly trips and falls.

Snape's eyes are wide with shock, beads of sweat gathering on his brow as he flicks away the curtain of black hair that has fallen into his line of vision. He glares over at her, his dark, furious gaze penetrating straight through her. She's never seen him so mad.

"_Get out." _Snape growls.

Darcey hesitates, still frozen on the spot.

"_GET OUT!"_

Harry grabs Darcey by the arm, pulling her away from the irate professor and leading her out the door and into the deserted, windowless corridor.

"What were you thinking attacking him?" Harry demands, his emerald eyes shining with concern. Darcey could have been killed! She provoked a known Death Eater who's also a teacher on school grounds. She could easily also be expelled.

_"It was Dumbledore."_ Darcey replies in a hollow tone, pressing herself against the cool, stone wall. She tilts her head back and closes her eyes, letting herself absorb the information.

_"What do you mean it was Dumbledore?"_ Harry turns on her in confusion.

"Dumbledore told him to do it, he told him to tell Voldemort about the prophecy and how to find me, knowing I'd surely be killed. He's been raising us like pigs, Harry. Fattening us up just to be slaughtered." Darcey states, her face strangely blank.

"Rubbish. He's tampered with it. Memories can be tampered with-"

_"He didn't tamper with it, Harry."_ Darcey firmly interrupts, her dark, turbulent blue eyes slowly moving to land on him. The murderous glint reflecting in them sends a shiver of fear down Harry's spine. '_Her eyes look like Voldemort's.'_ He notices with horror.

_"It's always been Dumbledore."_


	16. Chapter 16: Twice Defied

It was a late night in May, two weeks before school let out for the summer holiday.

Darcey curled herself up in one of the cool, leather armchairs in the common room, it was too hot to have the fireplace lit and she was lucky to be in the dungeons, the coolest part of the castle, as a heat wave fell over Hogwarts.

The common room was slightly stuffy and humid. It was nights like this that Darcey wished she could open up a window and let in some of the cool, crisp night air.

The water of the Black Lake casts murky, green water lines along the walls, making Darcey more aware of being underground. The result is being locked in a stuffy, hot coffin covered in six feet of dirt and worms. Lucky she doesn't suffer from claustrophobia otherwise she could never tolerate the Slytherin common room.

The light radiating from her wand reflects eerily off the still space, illuminating in the glass of the grandfather clock, reflecting off the sleek marble fireplace mantle and absorbing her in a small radius of pulsing, soft, white light in the otherwise pitch-black common room.

A chill sneaks its way down Darcey's spine as she delves deeper into the Dark Arts book, _'Secrets of the Darkest Art'_ than she ever has before.

The more she reads the more curious and equally horrified she becomes. Some things were so wicked, so completely sinister in nature that Darcey had never before realized it was possible to push the boundaries of magic that far.

Over the past year she learned of necromancy, a branch of dark magic dealing with summoning the undead to do your bidding. The process was extremely disgusting, as one had to dig up or otherwise obtain a deceased and most likely decaying corpse. Like many of the branches of the Dark Arts, it required a ritual and a blood sacrifice in the form of self-mutilation.

Darcey had also read of wicked potions, designed to kill, seriously harm and sometimes take advantage of the victim, such as an elixir that caused the victim to succumb to a twenty-four hour comatose state.

Darcey had learned over the year, dark spells that were extremely powerful and dangerous, able to cause vast amounts of destruction and destroy your opponent in the most brutal and barbaric of ways.

Though, the last section of the book seemed to put all the others to shame, making them seem milder and even harmless in comparison.

The last chapter of the book held detailed instruction on how to create a horcrux, which is an object that contains a fragment of a witch or wizards soul, used to gain immortality. Although immortality is impossible it makes one as close to immortal as possible, but for a heavy price. In order to create a horcrux it required a true blood sacrifice, the highest of all sins. It required one to murder.

Murder rips the soul apart. It is an act against nature, pure evil. A horcrux makes use of this heinous act for ones own gain. You're soul rips and you contain this fragment of your being into an object of your choosing in which a part of your soul resides, so if your body is attacked and killed your soul lives on in the object. In short you cannot die unless both the horcrux and your body is destroyed.

Darcey found horcruxes to be quite fascinating and a deep part of her perhaps her conscience warned her that it was evil, disgusting magic but yet… Darcey couldn't pull her eyes away from the page, mesmerized by the allure the Dark Arts offered to her.

* * *

Draco lie in bed gazing up at the ceiling, entranced by the water lines reflecting through the port holes of the Slytherin dormitory. He sensed that it was late, way past midnight, yet he hadn't slept at all.

His gray eyes burned with sleep deprivation, the dark rings around his eyes made him resemble an owl, and true a night owl he was.

Yet tonight was different than the other restless, sleepless nights Draco's body learned to endure. Tonight was _the_ night, the night that had caused him to lose months of precious sleep.

Tonight was the reason behind his frequent disappearance into the Room of Requirement to guard his treasure, the mended Vanishing Cabinet that he would use on this night to transport Death Eaters into the castle.

Above all tonight was the night he'd been waiting months for, the night to prove himself capable, to redeem his family and bring to them safety and security under renewed favor under the Dark Lord.

Tonight Draco Malfoy would murder the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the greatest wizard of the century, next to Voldemort himself, Albus Dumbledore. Tonight he'd finally complete his mission.

Suddenly, without warning the dark mark on his left arm began to burn as if he were being branded by scalding hot metal.

Draco winced, making a low hissing sound as he glanced down at his covered arm and yanked up the silk sleeve of his pajama shirt. The serpent slithered in and out of the black inked skull signaling that it was time.

Pressing his bare feet to the cool, stone floor as he rose from the cot he quickly dressed himself before silently bolting from the dormitory.

Draco halted, a pang of terror gripping him as he noticed the dark figure perched near the fireplace, clutching a lit wand.

Thoughts raced through Draco's head as he wondered who would be up this late at night and what his odds were of evading them.

He decided he'd have to obliviate their memory and Imperius them to go to bed so that he could sneak out unnoticed and unremembered.

As he drew his wand, clutching it with shaking, nervous hands the light of the illuminated wand suddenly shown brightly in his face as the student pointed it directly at him, having somehow sensed his presence.

"_Draco?_"

He recognized the female voice and suddenly relief flooded through him as he lowered his wand and squinted down at Darcey, shielding his eyes with his arm from the bright light of her wand.

_"Get that damn thing out of my face."_ Draco demands as Darcey obediently lowers her wand so that the glowing, white light cast on both of them without blinding them.

_"What are you doing down here?_" Darcey immediately asks, looking over him in concern before placing the book she had been reading on the cushion of the chair beside her.

Draco paused, failing to come up with a decent explanation. He was normally an excellent liar, being naturally quick-witted and clever but it was usually Crabbe, Goyle, or Pansy he was deceiving, all quite thick mentally. Darcey was different. She was harder to fool especially since she knew his secret. It would be tough, if not impossible to get anything past the equally bright girl.

"_Couldn't sleep… I've been thinking of you."_ Draco finally supplies smoothly, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes and behind her ear in a loving gesture.

Her piercing blue eyes narrow up at him, a deep scowl forming on her face as she roughly swats his hand away.

"_Don't you dare lie to me!"_ She hisses angrily, careful to keep her voice low as not to wake up their sleeping dorm mates.

"What's going on, seriously?" Darcey adds, the concern reflecting once more in her eyes as she peers softly up at him.

Draco remains silent, subconsciously rubbing his arm in an attempt to ease the discomfort of the searing dark mark, reminding him that he should be leaving.

Darcey's eyes follow his movement before she glances back up at him, a look of horror on her face.

"Something's happening isn't it? It's a Death Eater thing- _oomph_"

Draco clamps a hand tightly against her mouth, glaring angrily at her. "_Tell the whole school why don't you!"_ He hisses. If someone were to eavesdrop on the pair of them right now they would know his secret.

"_Listen to me, Darcey."_ Draco says gently but firmly, removing his hand from her lips and leaning in towards her ear. His breathe tingles against the exposed skin of Darcey's neck causing her to shiver.

"_You will stay here. Do not follow me. Do you understand?"_ Draco whispers firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Darcey hesitates before nodding her head up and down slowly in agreement.

Draco smirks, feeling relieved at how cooperative the normally haughty girl is being. She normally fought him tooth and nail on everything, purposely choosing to be difficult. It was as if she got some sort of twisted amusement out of being an utter pain in his ass.

Gripping gently to either side of her face, Draco guides her lips to his. The kiss is soft, slow and tender as if he is afraid of breaking her, afraid if he kisses her too hard like how he normally does that she will change her mind and defy him.

He wants her to know how grateful he is that she is willing to stay here and let him do what he has to do. Draco didn't need the added stress of worrying about her tonight. He shuddered to think of what the Death Eaters would do to her if they discovered her following him and he also shuddered to think of Darcey watching him murder the Headmaster. He didn't want her to see him as a monster. Although she knew he was a Death Eater, she had never been let in on what he was up to. Draco had kept Darcey in the dark, successfully hiding his mission from her. It wasn't hard to do since she had kept her word in never asking him questions, something he liked a lot about her.

"Get some rest, I'll be back soon." Draco lies softly once they're apart.

Darcey nods, offering him a small smile as she strokes the hair at the nape of his neck, her arms dangling over his shoulders. "_Be careful…"_ She whispers kissing him one last time before allowing him to brush past her and through the common room doors.

Darcey watches him leave before quickly running back to the armchair to fetch her almost forgotten book. She returns it to her trunk before casting a disillusionment charm on herself as she follows stealthily behind Draco.

Darcey played the part of obedient, trusting girlfriend well and is surprised Draco bought into her lie so easily. He knew her better than this, or so she thought. He should have known she'd never just let him leave like that, in the middle of the night knowing from him rubbing his arm so obnoxiously that Voldemort was summoning him. _Had he really thought her to be so cold that she wouldn't care? That she'd just let him leave knowing he'd be in harms way? _

Darcey was deeply disappointed. She felt foolish now for ever thinking that their relationship was deeper than that, but perhaps their relationship was cursed by the lies they kept from one another. Darcey had never told Draco of her intentions to defeat the Dark Lord and she had never questioned him about his activities as a Death Eater. _So how close could they have become really with the foundation of their relationship built upon lies?_

Darcey is pulled from her thoughts as she ascends the staircase off the Entrance Hall, heading in the direction of the Room of Requirement where she assumes Draco will be but stops dead in her tracks when she hears multiple footsteps approaching from around the bend.

Pressing herself flush against the wall despite being temporarily granted invisibility, Darcey hides listening as a familiar, cackling voice rips through the air.

"_What an honor it is, Draco that the Dark Lord chose you…"_

The voice belongs to the female Death Eater who murdered her brother, who she later identified as Bellatrix Lestrange, who's also Draco's aunt. How twisted it seemed that her boyfriend's entire family had tried to murder her at some point, they took star-crossed lovers to a whole new level.

The corridor is lightless for the exception of the bright full moon, glowing in the clear night sky through the castle windows.

A blast of air hits her as the group of Death Eaters, lead by Bellatrix and Draco, walk past her, their robes billowing with the speed of their strides, and in the direction of the Astronomy tower.

Darcey watches in numb shock, frozen in fear as Professor Snape brings up the rear of the group. '_Something big is happening.' _She realizes and finally gaining the courage once they are out of sight, Darcey removes herself from the cold stone wall and silently tip toes after them.

A huge part of her, the coward in her, screams for her to go back and hide in the dungeons but the other side of her, the angry, vengeance seeking side tempts her with promise of sneaking up on Bellatrix Lestrange and perhaps getting an opportunity avenge her brother; but as quickly as the thought comes, the thought goes, as Darcey realizes that attacking Lestrange would be counter productive.

Darcey needs to keep a level head and think clearly and logically. She mustn't let her temper get the best of her tonight. She needs to convince Voldemort she's not a threat and killing one of his most loyal servants isn't the way to go about it.

No, she can't get revenge just yet and so, something else motivates her to follow them, her genuine concern for Draco's well being. She needs to make sure no harm comes to him. He's not just her best friend and her lover, he's her everything. As lame as that sounds he is the only human companionship she has left and he means a lot to her. She's grown quite fond of him…

* * *

"Give me a moment alone to do this." Says Draco at the base of the Astronomy Tower. His Aunt Bella nods. "_Hurry_." She hisses.

Draco slips silently up the spiral staircase, unaware of another set of unseen footsteps following behind him. For a fraction of a second he's sure he felt a hot breathe tickle him as he glances in paranoia behind him but can see that the shaft of the staircase is clear. Draco's alone.

As he nears the top of the tower Draco points a shaking wand at Albus Dumbledore, who's standing near one of the Astronomy Tower windows gazing upon the clear night sky. The last iron step creaks under his weight as Dumbledore turns around looking for the source of the noise; he spots an armed student.

"Good evening Draco." Dumbledore greets calmly. The Headmaster doesn't draw his wand kept hidden in his periwinkle robes. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

Draco swallows hard, attempting to steady his nerves. He notices with displeasure that his pale, white hand clutching tightly to his wand is shaking violently, giving away his anxiety.

"Who else is here?" Asks Draco, glancing around the space in suspicion, he could have sworn her heard multiple voices. "I heard you talking." He says.

"I often talk quietly to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful." Dumbledore replies serenely.

Darcey stays pressed against the wall behind Draco near another window, occasionally glancing down at her body to ensure that she's still invisible. Her heart races with adrenaline, she's both excited and fearful. A part of her, the dark part of her is truly rooting for Draco to attack Dumbledore. He is after all, the real reason she's lost everyone close to her. He took everything from her and nearly destroyed her. It was his fault Voldemort and the Death Eater came to her home, it was all because Dumbledore had told Snape to use Darcey in order to gain the Dark Lords favor and he had, under Dumbledore's orders, betrayed her.

Darcey feels the fury churning within her at the sight of the old man. '_I hate him._' She realizes.

'_I hate him just as much as I hate Voldemort… Perhaps even more so. At least Voldemort is upfront about his intentions. He kills anyone whom he marks as an enemy, along with desiring a mass genocide of Muggles and Muggleborns. Voldemort is clearly evil, he doesn't hide behind a mask, pretending to be something he's not. No, Voldemort shows the world what a monster he truly is and in Darcey's mind that's applaudable. He's not phony like Dumbledore, who pretends to be so good, so noble and heroic, but deep down he's flawed just like everyone else. He's willing to sacrifice innocent lives for personal gain, manipulating his soldiers like pawns. Dumbledore has Harry and Snape scooped up right under his angelic wing. They'd do anything for him, believing that he's so wise that he must surely know what's best for the wizarding world now and what people are disposable for the greater good. Everyone allows him to play God, pulling the strings of his puppets like some grand puppeteer. Well who the hell is he but a ruddy old fool? Who is he to decide that I'm worthless? That I can be sacrificed so that Snape lives?' _Darcey feels her emotions overpowering her, clouding her judgment and pushing aside her rational state of mind. The fury begs her to be unleashed, whispering at her to just let go and attack. Hurt the man standing before her who's responsible for it all._ 'Do it. He'd never see it coming.'_

"Draco you are no assassin."

"How do you know what I am?" Snaps Draco, his voice cracking. "I've done things that would shock you!"

"Like cursing Darcey Davis to curse Katie Bell and hoping in return she'd bare a cursed necklace to me and replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison." Dumbledore calmly points out, his blue eyes twinkling with sorrow and pity for the boy, who in his mind, made all the wrong choices.

"Forgive me Draco, I can't help feel that these actions are so weak that you can't really be intent on killing me." Dumbledore frowns.

"Trust me." Draco yanks up his right sleeve, exposing his dark mark for the Headmaster to see. "_I was chosen!"_

Dumbledore holds his hands up in surrender, "_Then I shall make it easy for you-"_

"_Expelliarmus!_" Draco instantly disarms him as the Headmasters wand soars through the air in a high arc before landing off somewhere in the tower with an audible clank.

Suddenly a chill rips down Darcey's spine, a sort of cool, trickling feeling. She gazes down, still slightly shocked by Draco's courage to disarm the Headmaster, and realizes the vanishing spell is beginning to wear off. Parts of her body begin to appear and disappearing out of view, like the flicker of a wonky light bulb, gaining Dumbledore's attention.

Draco whips his head around, wanting to see what his opponent is looking at and suspecting the Order might have arrived but instead finds Darcey standing directly behind him peering over at Dumbledore with a look of pure loathing. Her eyes darken to near black in the dim light of the Astronomy Tower and her wild, curly hair whips out around her like tentacles as the wind picks up and blows through the open window nearest them.

She's clutching tightly to her wand, so tight that her pale, slender fingers have turned an eerie white and seem to glow slightly in the dark. She steps forward so that she's standing shoulder to shoulder with Draco, making it clear to him that she's on his side, she's here to help him not to stop him.

Draco quickly glances between her and the Headmaster, his eyes wide with surprise. He can't find the words to say to her so instead he refocuses on his mission, gazing back at Dumbledore with an unsteady, shaking hand. He braces himself to kill the old fool, doing his best to muster every ounce of courage inside him but still finds himself terrified, unable to mutter the killing curse.

'_I can't do this._' Draco realizes in horror. '_He's right. I'm no assassin.'_

Suddenly the heavy, wooden door at the bottom of the tower clicks open. The Death Eaters have given him plenty of time to do the job and have grown uneasy and inpatient wondering what is taking him so long.

Darcey begins speaking from next to him, her words come out steady, cold and hurried. She knows she hasn't much time before the Death Eaters discover her.

"I know what you did." Says Darcey, stepping closer to Dumbledore, her wand still pointed at his chest. "It was you who told Professor Snape to tell Voldemort of the prophecy, making him aware of my existence and location. You thought I was disposable, just some worthless, little orphan who, unlike her brother, was not the chosen one, therefore I'm not special like him. I serve you no purpose."

"But you're wrong _Headmaster._" Darcey hisses, her dark eyes narrowing in rage.

"Harry may be the chosen one but I am more powerful. I'm not so easy to kill. You see, here I am. I _survived._"

"I never once had doubt of your abilities as a talented and bright young witch, Darcey. It was never my intention to kill you-"

"No, Headmaster. _You _are mistaken. You should have made certain that I died that day. Because that tragedy you created gave birth to a stronger, more powerful and lethal enemy than you could have ever predicted. It changed me, you see. Unlike your intentions it didn't destroy me, it _empowered _me. I'm more _alive _than I've ever been."

Darcey's time has run out as the Death Eaters stumble upon the scene, taking in something they hadn't expected to see, Darcey Potter twin to the Chosen One, drawing her wand on Albus Dumbledore not Draco Malfoy.

"I had thought at first that Voldemort was the true enemy here, but I was wrong. It was you. _It had always been you_."

All eyes in the room are fixated on Darcey as she takes one last step towards the Headmaster.

"_You're a fool, Dumbledore…"_ Darcey breathes.

"_And I hope you rot in hell."_

"_Avada Kedavra!" _She bellows and with a bright flash of green light the killing curse hits Dumbledore straight in the chest, knocking him backwards with the sheer strength of the spell. Like all the Unforgivable curses, the castor has to truly mean it in order for it to be cast successfully and the more you wish harm upon someone the more powerful the curse is.

Dumbledore is flung backwards, his stiff body making contact with the window. He crashes through it with a loud shatter of broken glass before falling from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

The room is deathly silent apart from the howling wind, blowing through the window.

Darcey's breathing is shaky and as if realizing suddenly what she's done, her body begins to tremble.

'_I killed Albus Dumbledore.'_

Just then a pair of firm hands clasp onto her shoulders, guiding her around and towards the metal steps.

"What shall we do with her then?" Bellatrix demands excitedly, following after Snape as he guides his student down the steps.

Bellatrix pulls Draco along after them, yanking his arm roughly.

"We will bring her to the Dark Lord." Snape answers with a blank, unreadable face, his words sounding indifferent and cold to Darcey's ears. She wonders if he's still angry with her and if this is his somehow his sick punishment for using Legilimency on him.

Darcey doesn't even struggle against him, a part of her knowing her efforts would be in vain considering she's vastly outnumbered but a larger part of her feeling too numbed with shock to care where he's leading her.

'_I killed Albus Dumbledore.'_

They are crossing the lawns. Darcey can feel the soft, damp, dewy ground beneath her boots. She's still wearing her clothes from yesterday, her jeans and dark, wrinkled t-shirt.

It isn't until she hears Harry's voice calling out to them that she's finally shaken from her shock. Her feet dig into the ground as Snape's body behind her bumps roughly into her, having not anticipated the sudden struggle from the otherwise obedient girl. Darcey whips around to face her brother, who's running after them, his wand drawn.

"_You killed him!"_ Harry shouts, pointing his wand at Darcey. He's panting and drenched in sweat from running after them. His green eyes glisten with sorrow, pain and rage. He's grieving, mourning the death of his mentor who died tonight at the hands of his sister.

Darcey has no idea how Harry knew so quickly what had happened, unless he was somehow there and saw the whole encounter, to which he would now hate her.

Darcey remains speechless, peering at him with wide, dilated eyes. Her emotions feel numbed and her mind is fuzzy making it difficult to process what exactly is happening. She feels almost drunk, intoxicated by shock.

Snape steps in front of her, shielding her from Harry's view.

"_Snape, he trusted you! You didn't stop her!"_ Harry shouts again, turning his rage on the professor.

"_Sectumsempra!"_ Harry bellows, attempting to hit Snape with a dark spell that he easily blocks with the flick of his wrist.

"_Fight back you coward, fight back!_" Harry screams, stumbling closer to the two of them wanting desperately to get a hold of his sister and possibly strangle her. '_How could she? She killed the only man capable of protecting them both. A man that had done everything in his power to keep them both safe up until now. Dumbledore had looked after them and this is how his deranged, foul bitch of a sister repaid him? By killing him in cold blooded murder? Where had their parent's genes gone wrong in creating her? Darcey had the DNA of a monster, he was almost certain that there was no possible way they were born of the same womb._'

Snape casts a nonverbal hex that knocks Harry to his knees as he sits on all fours heaving out of breath and enraged. Harry glares up at them casting another spell, this time nonverbal.

Snape blocks it, sending a hex of his own that knocks Harry flat on his back. He's frozen to the ground, staring up at the starry night sky as he struggles to move, his fingers twitching with the effort he makes.

"_You dare use my own spells against me, Potter?_" Snape says icily, his ebony eyes fixated down on Harry as her steps closer, towering over him with Darcey still a few paces behind him gazing upon them in horror.

From somewhere behind them Bellatrix Lestrange cackles loudly with glee as she sets Hagrid's hut on fire and watches with pleasure as it burns.

Harry gazes up at the professor with wide, emerald eyes, filled with disbelief. His glasses are askew and one of the lenses has a crooked crack along the middle. Beads of sweat form on Harry's forehead, his pale, shiny pink scar in the shape of a lightning bolt glistens in the orange light of the explosion behind them. He fingers twitch again as he struggles with all his might to move to no avail.

"_Yes_." Declares Snape. "_I'm the Half-Blood Prince."_

Darcey and Harry exchange a final glance, Harry looking defeated on the ground as he cranes his neck to see her and Darcey still looking utterly horrified. She wants to say something, anything, but can't find the courage to speak to him. She remains speechless, her lips agape as if she were about to speak, her eyes still burning into Harry's as Snape returns to her side, gripping tightly to her shoulder and leading her away into the Forbidden Forest with the others where they apparate together. _'I'm sorry.'_ She wants to say to her brother. _'I'm sorry I let you down.'_

Darcey blinks back the spots in her vision, feeling slightly dizzy from apparition. She takes in their new location inside a large, elegant room.

Dark brown, shiny, leather couches are placed near a grand, marble fireplace. A deep maroon rug with navy and dark green vines takes up half the room. The rest of the uncovered floor is glossy, dark wood. The walls are adorned in deep emerald wallpaper with a subtle pattern and the lower half of the wall is made of the same wooden panels as the floor. Expensive crystal lamps and polished mahogany end tables fill the room, along with a floor-to-ceiling bookcases along the opposite wall from which they stand that houses thick, ancient tomes and a few random dark artifacts such as a skull, a hand of glory and a crystal orb used in many necromancy rituals. Above them a large, cast iron chandelier casts warm, yellow light upon them.

Darcey glances around the room, taking in the familiar faces. Her eyes instinctively seek out Draco's. His pale gray eyes glisten with fear and he looks ghostly pale as he peers over at her. Darcey can't tell whether he's terrified _of _her or _for_ her and decides to look away, suddenly feeling ashamed under his piercing gaze.

Darcey glances next at Snape standing closely beside her with a protective air about him, but as Darcey scans his face her faith in him falters for if he's at all concerned for her life he doesn't show it, his face remains blank and coldly indifferent as he ignores her, refusing to meet her gaze.

Darcey's eyes travel to Bellatrix Lestrange next as she speaks up from beside Draco. "_Well done half-blood_." Her mouth curls into a wicked grin, exposing her sharp, white teeth, her pink tongue flicking between her lips.

Darcey looks next at a tall, hairy, intimidating man whom she faintly recognizes from the papers as the vicious and notorious werewolf Fenir Greyback.

Just then Draco's parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy appear in the doorway, glancing around at all of the new visitors in their home. Both their light eyes widen slightly in shock when they spot Darcey Potter standing in the center of their drawing room.

"_Hurry Cissy, call the Dark Lord."_ Bellatrix speaks up again, still grinning wickedly as if amused by Darcey's doomed fate.

Narcissa stands frozen, her eyes still on the Potter twin as if she still can't believe what she's seeing. "_What is the girl doing here?"_ She asks quietly, her voice barely audible and laced with fear.

Lucius yanks up the sleeve of his black, velvet night robe as he presses his wand to the dark mark, summoning his Master.

"_What is the girl doing here?"_ Narcissa demands again, her voice gaining volume as well as firmness.

"_Wee little Darcey Potter here murdered Dumbledore."_ Bellatrix cackles before turning to Darcey and tisking her. "_You naughty, foolish girl. He was the only one left that could save you…"_ Mocks Bellatrix. "_Now you're dead_. _The Dark Lord will be here any minute now and you've led yourself straight to the butcher for slaughter little piggy. _"

Greyback emits a low chuckle from beside her, flashing his sharp canine teeth.

Darcey pulls her gaze from the deranged Death Eater and back to Draco, who's glancing nervously between them.

When his gray eyes land on hers she sees pain and sorrow reflected in them. Darcey's fate is clear to everyone in the room, she's about to die and these are the last moments she'll ever spend with Draco.

"_I'm sorry."_ Darcey whispers, finally finding her voice, it comes out raspy.

As if broken from the terror that clings to him, Draco steps forward to engulf her in a tight, near constricting embrace. She eagerly hugs him back, burying her head into his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent one last time.

"_You've made this past year bearable. You've given me so much strength. You're the only one who didn't abandon me and for that I can't express how grateful I am. If it weren't for you, losing my family would have destroyed me and I would have never found the courage to kill him. You gave me that pleasure. You're companionship changed me for the better, Draco. I'm lucky to have met you..."_ Darcey whispers into the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his cool skin, damp with sweat.

Draco inhales the scent of lavender in her hair, burying his fingers through her tangled locks one final time.

"_I'm lucky to have met you too._" Draco manages, his voice cracking as unshed tears threaten to spill from his eyes. They both remain strong, holding back their choked sobs and offering one another silent support. _Slytherin's do not cry. _

Darcey finally pulls away from him, aware of the multiple eyes burning into her back but she doesn't care right now. Pretending in this final moment that they are completely alone in the Room of Requirement back at school, she gets lost in his beautiful, silvery eyes.

She smiles at the memories they've made together over the past year, those heated snogging session filled with burning passion and desire. She's certain if they were granted more time and under less morbid circumstances they could have fallen in love… Yes, in an alternate reality a lot less grim, Draco Malfoy could have been the one for her.

Wanting the taste of him to be her last memory, she boldly presses her lips to his engaging him in a deep and passionate kiss. Draco kisses her back, his pain and desperation seeping into the kiss. He pulls her flush against him, leaving no space between them. He runs his fingers through her hair and down her cheek as they pull away, standing mere inches apart gazing into each other's watery eyes.

There's an audible loud pop from just outside the door, that's unbearably loud against the still and silent room.

Draco and Darcey step complete apart, untangling themselves from one another just as Voldemort glides through the threshold.

Darcey stares straight ahead of her, directly at Draco mustering every once of courage within her before she's able to bring herself to face the man who ripped everything from her.

Darcey's blue eyes lock with a pair of bloodshot, red ones. A cruel smirk curls upon his pale lips at the sight of her, as if he's a boy unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. She's his prize.

"_Hello Darcey Potter, what a pleasure it is that we meet again."_ Voldemort says smoothly, striding towards her.

His strong, pale hand grips her cheek, his long, yellow fingernails digging painfully into her skin. She winces slightly at the sudden contact, unprepared for it.

His eyes are inches away from hers and now that he's this close she can see flecks of hazel mixed in with the red. Traces of his old eye color, hidden in a sea of blood.

Her heartbeat races, beating violently against her chest; she's sure he can sense her fear like a hungry lion about to devour the tender meat of a gazelle in those final moments before the lion takes that first bite, ripping into the jugular and killing its prey.

Like the Dart Arts, Darcey is both entranced and terrified of those scarlet eyes piercing into her murky blue ones. She finds the creature before her both fascinating and revolting.

_"Hello, my lord."_ Darcey removes her eyes from his as she bows her head in respect. Months of planning have gone into this moment. This is her last attempt at survival, her only shot of persuading Voldemort that she is not a threat, but an ally.

She stares at the glossy, wooden floorboards beneath her as her head remains bowed in an act of humility.

"Why such a sudden change in loyalty? I'd be interested in hearing any last words you wish to say." Voldemort hisses, gently lifting up her chin in an effort to toy with her. She nearly flinches at his softness, having expected him to handle her more roughly.

"I've spent months planning my revenge…" Darcey begins quietly, still playing the role of humble servant.

Voldemort's crimson eyes darken at her words, his lips forming a cruel, mocking smile.

"_And it seems you have lost, Darcey Potter. Just like you, your brother will follow in your footsteps and die at my hands. For you see, I am invincible_." He hisses.

"My lord, there seems to have been a misunderstanding in my words. You see, I wasn't referring to you but instead to Albus Dumbledore…" Darcey explains calmly, meeting his gaze evenly, his cold hand still cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him.

His eyes widen a fraction, momentarily caught off guard by her words before narrowing in suspicion and rage.

"_You dare lie to me?"_ Voldemort hisses, his nails digging into her cheek so hard that it begins to draw blood.

Darcey winces as a low, steady voice speaks up beside her.

"My lord, if I may add." Snape bows his head in respect before continuing. "The girl has succeeded tonight in killing Albus Dumbledore. We all bore witness to it."

"Is that correct?" Voldemort asks the group as a whole, receiving nervous nods in response.

"_But the girl is surely a spy for the Order, my lord. She's Harry Potter's twin. She can't be trusted."_ Bellatrix hisses, her dark eyes fixated on Darcey's, glistening with contempt.

"If I may point out Bellatrix, Darcey Potter has displayed the highest act of loyalty in killing Dumbledore. If that alone doesn't show where her loyalty lies then I suppose nothing will please you." Snape coldly points out.

"What do you have to say to all this?" Voldemort demands, turning his attention back on the girl trembling beneath him.

Darcey uses every ounce of willpower to calm herself enough to reply steadily, only flinching occasionally under Voldemort's grip.

"I sought revenge upon Albus Dumbledore and took the opportunity as it presented itself to me this evening to murder him." Darcey replies honestly.

"But why? Why have you marked the man who spent years protecting you and your brother from me as your enemy?" Voldemort's voice takes on a morbid curiosity, suddenly taking a keen interest in the otherwise useless girl.

Here's where it gets tricky. Darcey could easily tell the truth but that would reveal that Snape is a spy for the Order and instantly get him killed. No, Darcey had known for a while now that the truth was not an option, although he had betrayed her she couldn't find it in herself to betray him. Still knowing it would be best to stick as close to the truth as possible, as not to get herself spun up in a web of confusing lies, Darcey had planned a different and hopefully equally believable reason for her vengeance.

"Dumbledore separated Harry and I shortly after birth, preventing me from ever truly getting to know my brother. I spent my entire life questioning who I was, thinking I was just some pathetic, abandoned orphan until the start of this year when he told me who I was."

"I naturally wanted to form some sort of relationship with Harry since he was the only family I had left, but Dumbledore turned my brother against me, telling him of a prophecy that said I would betray him. He took Harry from me once more and refused my interest in joining the Order of the Phoenix to fight alongside my brother against you. I was angry at you naturally at first, I blamed you for all the misfortune that had occurred in mine and Harry's life but then I began to see clearly the type of man Dumbledore truly was and my hatred turned towards him instead. For he's the one who drove us apart and he flat out rejected me, making it clear he thought I was worthless. I vowed to prove him wrong, to prove them all wrong, including my foolish, saint of a brother." Darcey sneers in disgust. "Who also rejected me."

"So I gave into the destiny the prophecy foretold, knowing that I belonged instead in the company of those who could offer me what I truly wanted, _power_. I had planned on approaching you and offering to join you, problem was, you like all the others failed to see my brother and I as different persons. You see, I am nothing like him. We were raised by entirely different families with different morals and values, the fact that he was sorted to Gryffindor like our filthy parents and I in Slytherin should be proof enough of this… "

"So I planned on perhaps killing an Auror to gain your attention and prove myself loyal to you. Then tonight, when I discovered Draco sneaking out of the common room I followed him and watched as he disarmed Dumbledore. The rage I held for the man overcame me at the sight of him and I saw suddenly an opportunity to fulfill my own selfish desire for vengeance as well as prove to you my loyalty in murdering Albus Dumbledore." Darcey explains, surprising herself by how easily the words slipped from her tongue, probably because they were already part true.

Voldemort takes a moment to access her, as if suddenly seeing her as a real person for the first time and not some pathetic, teenage girl. He sees ambition in her, a thirst for power and a hunger for vengeance against Harry Potter and all others whom rejected her and thought her to be the weaker of the two twins. She had indeed proven her loyalty to the Dark Lord, in the highest act possible by murdering the man he'd spent decades trying to kill.

Perhaps Darcey Potter wasn't a threat or deemed useless as he had originally thought. Perhaps there was some value in her and he could appeal to the dark side of her, granting her what she desired, _power_, and in return she would give him her loyalty.

Voldemort teetered back and forth on the idea of whether or not she was worth sparing, still not completely convinced. She needed to offer something more, something that set her apart from the other loyal followers. She was a risk, a wild card that could easily turn on him. He had plenty of loyal followers, it wasn't worth sparing her to gain one more.

As if sensing his inner turmoil Darcey speaks up, offering him the very last thing she can give him.

"I know my loyalty isn't enough. You need something more than just that." Darcey admits. "With the disappearance of my adoptive parents over Christmas the Ministry of Magic looked into my adoption and discovered that it was unrecorded, therefore unofficial."

"_So?"_ Bellatrix interrupts furiously, clearly outraged that the Dark Lord is even considering her as a new recruit. '_Has he gone mad? She's Harry Potter's sister! Kill her!_" She mentally screams.

"_So,"_ Darcey emphasizing, glancing between Lestrange and Voldemort.

"The Minister of Magic spoke to me himself and told me that I am to live with my _real_ guardians this summer, a pair of muggles with whom Harry Potter also lives with…"

Darcey can see Voldemort's mind ticking, churning with the new information given to him. Unlike his followers, unlike himself who couldn't get within a foot of Harry when he's under the protection of his muggle Aunt and Uncles house, Darcey could get near him as she would be living with him under the same roof. The Order couldn't throw her out since the Minister himself had ordered it and Darcey could act as a spy and possibly even bring Harry Potter straight to him.

Voldemort was truly mistaken when he deemed the girl worthless for she was extraordinarily valuable, the most sacred treasure he had at the moment. She was his way of breaking through the bubble of protection the Order of the Phoenix placed upon Harry since the night his parents died. Darcey was his ticket in.

"_You wish to join me?"_ Voldemort confirms, brushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes, suddenly treating his prize with delicacy, like an expensive, fine jewel.

"_Yes_." Darcey breathes, an eager smile pulling at her lips. "_I'd love nothing more than to serve you, my lord."_ Darcey bows.

"Then you will act as a spy, staying with your muggle relatives over the summer and keep me informed on every plan being made to protect Harry Potter from me." Voldemort hisses, his voice laced with a greedy sort of excitement similar to Bellatrix's blood lust.

"_Yes, my lord."_ Darcey obediently replies as relief floods through her.

_'I survived the Dark Lord twice.' _She realizes with swelling pride.

_'Correction, I **defied** the Dark Lord twice.'_


	17. Chapter 17: Claimed

It's a bright, May morning. Birds chirp merrily outside the windows of the Malfoy Manor, nesting in many of the lush, green trees growing within the outside garden.

Neatly trimmed, boxy shrubs align the cobble stone pathway leading from the house to a sitting area outside. Draco and Darcey sit before a water fountain with lily pads floating in the crystal, clear water.

Darcey glances up from her conversation with Draco to see a large, white bird strutting proudly along the looming, stone garden wall.

"_What is that?"_ She asks, pointing over Draco's shoulder to the snowy white bird with beady crimson eyes peering down at them.

"An albino peacock, Father fancies them. We've bred a whole lot of them that live here inside the garden." Draco replies casually as if it's common knowledge.

"That's rather odd." Says Darcey bluntly.

"His patronus is a peacock. I suppose that's why he likes them so much..." Draco elaborates not wanting Darcey to think his family is anything but ordinary.

Darcey allows herself to snort out in laughter, unable to contain herself.

"And what may I ask is so funny?" Draco sneers.

"A peacock, _really?_ That explains a whole lot. He does seem rather _peacocky_ now that you mention it." Darcey observes mentally musing that the Malfoy clan _does _seem to resemble a flock of prissy, albino peacocks strutting about with an air of exotic superiority.

"Yeah? Well what birds do _you _have nesting in _your_ garden?" Draco demands rather childishly.

"I dunno, robins? Blue jays? I saw a Cardinal once. Those are my favorite." Darcey quips, smiling at the pleasant memory of the scarlet bird.

"What a common flock. Haven't you bred any wild animals?" Draco inquires as if it's odd that she hasn't her own private species.

"_Erm-_ _No_. My family didn't own a _zoo _we owned a _house_." Darcey clarifies. "We were upper middle class remember, not filthy stinking rich like you."

"That's unfortunate… Speaking of home Father says I can escort you to your house if you wish to collect your belongings now that it's safe. I figured you'd be eager to get your things…"

Suddenly there's a loud '_crack_' as a timid house elf appears in front of them, startling Darcey nearly half to death as she jumps a good two feet in the air.

"Didn't mean to startle Master Draco's guest, sir. Binx has come to inform Master Draco that brunch is being served in the dining hall at eleven o' clock sharp." The elf informs before disappearing once more with another loud '_crack_'.

Forty-eight hours ago Darcey was spared by the Dark Lord and told she'd be staying at the Malfoy Manor until the end of term where she'd be going to live with her muggle relatives and Harry in Little Whinging.

Draco's parents made it quite clear that Darcey was unwelcomed in their home as a half-blood and Harry Potter's sister, they wanted nothing to do with her and were anything but honored to have her as their new guest. They grudgingly fed her and allowed her access to their home, including their vast library, enclosed garden, and the Quidditch pitch out back. She was offered one of their multiple guest bedrooms, the one farthest from their sons but declined when Draco intervened that first night saying that she'd be sleeping with him. She was a mess that night, greatly shook up by her near death encounter in the presence of Lord Voldemort.

* * *

Draco had guided Darcey straight to his room to get cleaned off. She was covered in dirt, sweat and tears and was hardly speaking, absorbed in her thoughts and recounting in her head what had just happened.

_'I survived.'_

"Take off your shirt." Comes Draco's voice from behind her, he's guided her into a luxurious, pristine bathroom with granite countertops and a large, gold ornate mirror above the sink that reflects the two disheveled teenagers.

Darcey lifts her hands above her head allowing Draco to pull off her damp t-shirt, and then her tank top. He unbuttons her jeans from behind and tugs them off over her hips to pool around her feet where she steps out of them.

Darcey stands in her undergarments, rubbing her arms for warm as an unpleasant chill trickles through her. She feels vulnerable and exposed, not from being half-naked in the presence of Draco but from being under the intense gaze of Lord Voldemort moments ago. Those cruel, crimson eyes keep swimming in her head, burned forever in her memory.

Draco runs the bath and no less than twenty golden faucets begin to spurt out bubbly, hot water that emits the calming scent of cucumber and melon, a refreshing fragrance. Draco sets a stack of fluffy, white towels on the countertop that are enchanted to stay warm.

"I'll be just outside the door in my bedroom if you need me. The taps shut off themselves when the tub's filled." He supplies, lingering in the threshold as his pale eyes glisten with concern.

Darcey silently nods, still standing stiffly and clutching her arms, facing the way he left her, peering blankly at the tub. Draco must have seen her weak nod because after a moment he finally leaves, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Darcey stares for a moment at the frothy, bubbly water, listening the white noise of the running taps. She exhales a shaky breath to calm her nerves, the adrenaline still pumping through her. She turns to the mirror to examine her reflection head on.

Her breast-length hair lay in lank, stringy, waves framing her face, some strands clinging to the sweat still glistening on her forehead and neck. Dark rings encircle her murky, blue eyes giving her face a shadowed effect. Her skin is ghostly pale giving her an overall harsh appearance as it clashes against her chestnut hair and black, lacey undergarments. She looks despondent and worn out as if fighting off some life threatening chronic illness and giving up the fight to live.

Darcey sheds the last of her clothes, taking in her naked form before stepping into the tub and sinking down into the water until it touches her chin, engulfing her in warmth. The bubbles pop, tickling against her face and sounding loud against her ears. The faucets shut off at once as a washcloth and bar of soap appear on the ledge of the tub, charmed out of thin air.

Darcey lies against the curved back of the smooth tub, unmoving and allowing her tense, contracted muscles to relax as her heart to regains its normal rhythm. She begins to scrub herself off, ridding her of the dirt and sweat and overall feeling of shame. She feels more filthy on the inside than the outside but sadly a hot bath won't cleanse her tarnished soul.

_'Killing is an act against nature'_

* * *

Darcey and Draco journey back inside the mansion at eleven o' clock sharp, seating themselves at the far end of a long, polished, mahogany table set with crystal cups, a pitcher of elf-squeezed orange juice and a platter of steaming hot pancakes, sunny side up eggs, smoked sausages and bacon. At the opposite end of the table sits Draco's parents and his Aunt Bellatrix whom seem to be ignoring their presence completely, as they eat their morning brunch in a thick, uncomfortable silence.

Halfway through the awkward meal Narcissa suddenly speaks up, gaining both teens attention.

"I'd just like to say something." She declares, setting down her pristine silverware as her bright, blue eyes fixate on Darcey's with anger reflected in them.

"_Mind your tongue, Narcissa. Now is not the time."_ Lucius Malfoy warns from his spot at the head of the table, casting his wife a threatening glance that seems to have zero impact on her.

"I refuse to remain silent any longer, Lucius. I need to express what's heavy on my mind." Narcissa replies firmly, tilting her chin up in an act of snobbish superiority.

Lucius makes a move to stop her, opening his mouth to protest but Darcey disrupts him."_No, please continue. I'm dying to hear whatever it is you have to say to me."_ She interrupts curtly, ignoring Draco's gaze burning into her. His words from yesterday echo through her head '_Don't engage them, just pretend they don't exist_.' But she can't hold back any longer, fed up with his parent's display of rudeness. They've done nothing to welcome her as a guest in their home nor to accept her as an ally, refusing to acknowledge that she's now a valuable member of the Dark Lord's army. She's one of them.

"_You had no right_." Narcissa accuses, struggling to maintain her collected appearance.

"_Pardon?_" Darcey quips, setting down her own utensils and pushing aside her meal, finding that her appetite has diminished along with her patience.

"_You had no right to steal away Draco's glory. It was his mission to kill Albus Dumbledore and you selfishly took that away from him._"

Bellatrix glances up from her meal through a curtain of untamed, curly black hair dangling in her eyes as she peers up in wicked excitement between the two witches, inwardly hoping for a brawl and an opportunity to hex Darcey in the argument of 'self defense.' She's been dying to use the Crutiatus Curse on the Half-Blood from the moment she got here.

"_Excuse me?"_ Darcey growls in outrage. "_Your son failed to kill Dumbledore and I stepped in to save him. If it weren't for me Draco would be dead, the Dark Lord would have killed him for his failure right on the spot-"_

"_Plans had been made that if Draco should get cold feet_ _Severus __Snape would be the one to finished off Dumbledore. We made an unbreakable vow last July and he promised to assist Draco in fulfilling his mission, but my son was hardly given the chance as you so selfishly stepped in to steal his glory. You've planned this all along hadn't you? Purposely befriending my son in order to use him to meet your own ends-"_

_"I did no such thing!" _Darcey furiously protests rising to stand as her hand subconsciously reaches for her wand. In an instant Bellatrix has risen and is pointing her crooked, ebony wand directly at Darcey, her cruel, dark eyes glistening with blood lust. Draco quickly intervenes not wanting to see his girlfriend get tortured.

"_Excuse me, Mother. I'd like to return to my bedroom now. Darcey, if you will join me, please?_" Draco says smoothly, presenting her with his pale, outstretched hand.

"_It would be my pleasure, Draco."_ Darcey breathes, trying with all her might to control her anger and remain calm, knowing her cool and fearless demeanor will really get Narcissa's knickers in a twist.

Darcey gently places her hand in his as he whisks her away from his unbearable family. They ascend a stone staircase before wondering down a long, dimly lit corridor with the curtains drawn on every window giving it the depressing feel of Professor Snape's classroom.

Darcey glances over at the pale portraits aligning the walls, depicting the Malfoy lineage. She can't help but notice most of the men and women look eerily alike, with the same pale eyes, pointed features and white-blond hair. Darcey can't help but wonder if they've inbred in order to maintain their pureblood status. She wouldn't put it past them to resort to incest rather than risk 'contamination' of their blood.

Draco's room is the last in the hall on the far right, behind an ornate oak door.

Darcey slips in past him as he holds open the door for her to enter, plopping down ungracefully upon his handsome, four-post bed adorned in a heavy emerald quilt and crisp white sheets similar to those back in their Slytherin dormitories, except with a higher thread count.

Darcey gazes around the room, admiring the Vratsa Vultures Romanian Quidditch team posters framed upon his walls and the Slytherin pendent pinned above his desk. An expensive looking fine art painting of a knight in black armor slaying a rather nasty looking dragon takes up the space on the wall above his bed. A crystal chandelier hangs above them and an ornate, glossy wood wardrobe stands on the opposite wall from the bed. A door next to it leads off into a private bathroom that houses a walk in tub with no less than twenty golden faucets that she made use of her first night here.

Darcey falls back upon the bed, lying down across it and peering up at the chandelier, noticing how it glistens as some of the crystals catch the trail of sunlight filtering in through the curtained window. It's quite beautiful, a simple kind of beauty similar to 'stopping and smelling the roses' that Darcey takes a moment to appreciate.

"Make yourself at home then." Draco teases from somewhere above her.

"Already have." Darcey smiles back, unsure of whether of not he can see her grinning as she obnoxiously kicks off her boots. They fall to the hard wood beneath her with two distinctive, loud 'thunks'.

"I have to ask." Darcey blurts out penetrating the comfortable silence that lingers over them and propping herself up on her elbows in order to get a better view of him. Draco's standing near his desk eyeing the golden snitch whizzing around his head and with cat like reflexes makes a grab for it, successfully gripping it in his enclosed fist. He releases it once more to catch it again as the two engage in idle chatter.

"Why don't you have any siblings?" She wonders aloud, still watching him play with the snitch.

"What do you mean?" Draco asks in confusion, pocketing the small ball and coming to lie beside her.

Darcey tilts her head to face him, meeting his silvery orbs.

"I just thought that was an ancient pureblood family tradition, to spawn as many children as possible…"

"_Merlin, do we look like the Weasley's? This isn't a barn, we don't reproduce like mice._" Draco sneers, not seeing the point she's trying to make.

"_I just mean, how else do you intend to keep the bloodline pure if you haven't a sister to marry..._"

"That's disgusting." Draco replies flatly.

"_Well it's true!"_ Darcey shrieks in defense. "Don't act as if- I saw the portraits. I'm not a bloody idiot-" Darcey argues, fumbling slightly over her words in embarrassment.

"Yes we've inbred but it stopped at my father who married out of the family, my mother's a Black, you know, and I intend to do the same." Draco elaborates matter of fact.

"_Obviously_, it isn't as if you exactly have a choice- _oomph_" Darcey grins cheekily, earning a swift nudge in the arm from her companion.

"_Just saying!"_ She protests with a chuckle.

"_Close your mouth, Potter. You're digging yourself a deeper grave_." Draco taunts, rolling over so that he's hovering over her, holding his weight above with his elbows.

Their eyes meet, steely gray against stormy blue, before Draco leans down, closing the gap between them.

Darcey's eyes flutter shut as she focuses on his warm lips moving against hers, reaching up to cup the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Draco pulls back from her lips, leaving Darcey momentarily disappointed before he moves to the side of her exposed neck, kissing, nipping and biting his way down to her collarbone. She shivers as Draco sucks on an extremely sensitive spot near where her neck and chest meet.

She feels a prickling sensation wash over her as her mind begins to feel fuzzy with lust. Although they've snogged like this before, Darcey's convinced it will never grow old, Draco will always be able to have this sort of effect on her.

Draco pulls back so that their faces are a few inches apart as he gazes intensely into Darcey's eyes as if searching for something buried deep within them. His expression is mixed and unreadable as if regarding her with some sort of inner turmoil

Darcey bites her bottom lip, a nervous habit she does when feeling self-conscious. She's suddenly caught off guard by Draco's odd behavior.

_"Is something wrong?"_ Darcey inquires softly, sounding more than a little defensive.

Draco stares down at her, his breathe tickling against her chapped lips. He realizes suddenly that something has changed between them ever since the night Darcey nearly died. Before then they had been close friends, allies and somebody to snog. Draco was attracted to her, she was more than pretty and he had always felt an undeniable spark when they had kissed. He lusted after her, that much hadn't changed but now there was something more to it, as if their relationship had turned into something a bit deeper…

He felt oddly _attached_ to her now and suddenly he dreaded the idea of them spending an entire summer apart. It was a pathetic move on Draco's part, a show of weakness. Draco wouldn't necessarily go as far as to say that he was _in love_ with Darcey, but it was definitely getting too intense. Maybe the distance would do them some good for they were becoming to dependent on each other.

Yet, Darcey had never once questioned their relationship or pushed him to take things a bit deeper, to be more committed to her. She was different than most girls, colder and more independent. She had never seemed bothered in the least by the fact that Draco had never showered her with gifts or taken her out on a proper date like he had his previous girlfriend, Parkinson. So if she wasn't bothered by it why was he? Why did he suddenly find himself craving more, desiring to be closer to her, to show her how much he truly fancied her?

"_What are we? I mean- what do you want us to be?"_ Draco inquires as he finally manages to turn some of his racing thoughts into a proper sentence. It's time they had 'the talk' and put some solid boundaries on their relationship. Were they courting? Were they merely friends with benefits? Draco needed to know what she expected of him because he wasn't ready for a serious relationship and she needed to know that before he led her on and she got hurt.

Darcey's eyes widen a fraction, barely noticeable unless he was this close to her.

"_I suppose we're just- I dunno- us- together?_" Darcey stutters out feeling equally confused at the thought of putting a solid label on them.

"_And you haven't a problem with that?"_ Draco clarifies slowly, raising a light brow while inwardly feeling a bit guilty. Darcey deserved more than this, she was a brilliant girl.

"_No not at all._" Darcey replies without an ounce of hesitation.

"And I don't think we should over complicate this. We're both obviously fond of one another and we have loads on our plate right now. This is pretty much our only escape from the darkness surrounding our lives. Let's just continue to find release in each other. I feel happy when I'm with you and that's all that matters, right? So I'd love to continue being _this, _whatever the bloody hell _this _is." Darcey replies softly, casting him a genuine smile before inclining her head just a fraction to close the gap between them, already missing the feel of Draco's lips against her. She was falling too deep.

* * *

Later that evening Darcey lies awake on a handsome, leather sofa in Draco's bedroom placed in front of his window. She feels uncomfortable sharing Draco's bed, knowing how much of a bed hog she tends to be. The light of the moon radiates through the dark, curtained window bathing the bedroom in a soft, dim glow. Darcey is gripped by restless insomnia, every time she closes her eyes her thoughts begin to race.

Anxiety fills her at the idea of revisiting her childhood home to collect her belongings tomorrow; it's something she has to do but finds herself dreading immensely.

She's also dreading the summer she'll be spending with her brother and the _muggles_ worried that he might try to murder her in her sleep.

'_Harry hates me, he'll probably strangle me the moment I walk through the door he wouldn't bother waiting 'til I slept...' _Darcey muses with a morbid sense of humor.

Above all else, she feels disturbed by her lack of remorse towards murdering a man in coldhearted vengeance. Shouldn't she be distraught and torn up inside, doesn't the act of murder shred the soul? She murdered a man, Albus Dumbledore no less, shouldn't she be experiencing some sort of killers guilt or regret? Shouldn't she be having night terrors where she's forced to relive the traumatic memory, forever haunted by the look of death crossing his face as he fell from the Astronomy Tower window seven-stories high?

Yet, Darcey feels completely empty, void of any emotion regarding the murder except for perhaps a small sense of satisfaction that she tries to bury deep within her, feeling ashamed by it.

_Was it wrong that she truly believed Dumbledore deserved to die and she had no regret of killing him? _Yes, it was wrong! Or at least Darcey was almost certain it _should_ be wrong and once more she's reminded that she's isn't normal, maybe she's a Sociopath.

_'Have I lost my mind? Am I completely deranged?' _She faintly wonders, her stomach clenching in fear.

She feels as if she's slipping away, further and further from sanity with each passing day.

'_Have I really gone mad? Why don't I feel anything?'_

Convinced to feel something more than the dark, creeping abyss slowly consuming her being, Darcey rises with a sudden jolt, straining her eyes to see Draco's sleeping form on the bed beside her.

She feels something stir within her abdomen as she approaches him, watching him sleep so innocently, so peacefully, an urge to disturb him.

She pads silently over to him, gazing down at his fair, handsome face that seems to glow supernaturally in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom. He shifts in his sleep, mumbling something inaudible as he turns over on his back, sprawled out in the center of his bed. His left arm lies bent at an angle above his head, resting on his pillowcase while his other arm remains near his side under the covers draped around his waist.

Half of his dark mark is visible from his sleeve riding up with the movement and Darcey feels suddenly the overwhelming urge to touch it in order to satisfy a sick sense of lust inside her. Gently and carefully she pulls up his sleeve an inch more before softly tracing her fingertips over the smooth, inked skin, feeling the tattoo makes him even more attractive and shouldn't that too be wrong?

Draco shifts slightly at her contact, his arm twitching beneath her. She quickly draws back her hand as her pulse picks up in adrenaline, enjoying the thrill of not getting caught.

Gaining courage and allowing her desire to fuel her, Darcey lightly straddles Draco's waist as bends down, pressing her body in half so that their chests meet, as she places a soft kiss upon his cheek. She guides her lips to his jaw line, kissing him again. He doesn't stir which gives her further courage to move her lips to his exposed neck where her tongue glides across his cool skin as she moves her lips against the tender flesh, lightly nibbling and sucking with careful seduction.

This seems to arouse Draco from his slumber, as his body stiffens momentarily not knowing what's happening and why he can't move with the weight of Darcey pinning him to the bed, leaving him immobile. His silvery eyes land on the beautiful girl above him, kissing and sucking sensually at his neck, her panting breaths hot against his ear.

"Darcey…" Draco groans as a jolt of arousal twitches in his abdomen, his dick stiffening beneath her. He allows himself to relax fully, taking in the burning, tingling sensation radiating through him and enjoying Darcey's hot mouth against him.

His hand reaches up from under the blankets to grip her hair, entangling his fingers in the soft, tousled locks. Darcey moves to kiss his lips, moving her tongue in unison against his, as their kisses grow more needy and desperate.

Darcey hooks the bottom of her nightshirt; one of Draco's old button downs that is too small for him and swiftly lifts the shirt up over her head, abandoning it on the floor below her.

Draco leans up to grope her breasts, quickly unlatching her bra to free them. His hot lips glide over her nipple, kissing and sucking at her breasts with eager ferocity. Darcey buries her fingertips in his disheveled, blond hair, arcing her back as an internal heat courses through her body. She wants to feel him inside her.

With the swiftness of a cobra, Draco grips tightly to her hips and flings her roughly down upon the bed. He leans back on his knees, tearing off his silk pajama shirt and letting it fall somewhere behind him.

He presses himself fully against her, kissing her passionately. Darcey runs her hand along his toned chest, from years of playing Quidditch, feeling the rise and fall of his muscles as his heartbeat races and his breathing becomes ragged, he lets out a frustrated groan, unable to control himself.

"_I want you_." Draco's voice is low and husky, coming out as a growl.

"_Then have me."_ Darcey quips breathlessly, drawing him in for another desperate kiss.

Draco's hands forcefully grapple for her underwear before ripping them off her hips, leaving her completely exposed beneath him. He takes in her slender curves as another jolt of arousal ignites him, wanting to claim her body as his.

Darcey reaches out to hook the waistline of his pants, feeling eager to get him naked. She wants to explore him, touch him, and taste him.

Draco slithers away from her, repositioning his body below her, lying flat on the bed and parting her legs. His hot breath tickles against her most sensitive area.

"_W-what are you doing?"_ Darcey squeaks, suddenly caught off guard by his detour, not expecting him to kiss her _there._

"_Shhh_." He coos, reaching his left hand up to cup her breast while his other hand grips tightly to her inner thigh. He brings his mouth down between her parted legs as his wet lips make contact with her most forbidden region.

Something between a gasp and a moan escapes Darcey's lips as his tongue glides between her folds, kissing and lapping at her in a rhythmic motion.

"_F-fuck Draco_." Darcey curses while fisting the sheets and arching her hips against him, letting the pleasure of his tongue lapping at her engulf her. Her eyes snap shut as she bites down hard on her lip, doing her best to suppress another moan while entangling her fingers in his messy hair, tugging him back towards her.

Draco resurfaces from between her legs, latching onto her neck and sucking so hard she's sure it'll leave a mark, showing the world that Darcey belongs to him. Draco's claimed her as his possession.

He roughly kicks off his silk pants, positioning himself above her. Darcey's soaking wet and it's such a turn on as he tries to restrain himself from pounding into her. Instead he enters her as slowly as he can manage, giving her time to adjust to the sheer size of him.

Darcey gasps, wincing as her nails dig into his shoulder blades nearly drawing blood. Draco moves his lips to hers, engulfing her in a deep, passionate kiss in order to distract her from the discomfort of losing her virginity to him.

After a moment Darcey gently thrusts her hips against him, signaling that the pain has subsided enough for him to continue. Draco slowly moves himself in and out of her a few times, testing the waters. She groans but doesn't wince so he takes that as a good sign.

Unable to restrain himself a second longer Draco roughly thrusts against her and then repeats the motion again and again until their bodies become in sync and Darcey's moving with him as he pounds ruthlessly against her.

The bedsprings squeak loudly in protest, creating a symphony and likely drawing the attention of anyone on the second floor but Draco doesn't care as he pounds into her harder and harder with all his might, shagging her senseless.

Darcey becomes increasingly more vocal, allowing herself to moan out his name.

_"Draco!"_ Her tone is breathless and pleading like the time he used the Imperius Curse on her and once again her voice excites something dark within him.

Gripping tightly to her wrists, Draco throws her arms back above her head, thrusting savagely against her.

Turned on by Draco's sudden act of dominance, Darcey submits to him letting him fuck her with all his might as they both lose control. The passion consumes them, a raw, animalistic lust. "Draco!" She cries out, her tone pleading as a nearly intolerable heat radiates through her core, numbing her mind and body with unbearable pleasure. Her muscles tighten and contract as she lets out a low moan, riding out the last few heavenly moments of her first orgasm.

Draco releases his seed inside her, his body jerking with euphoric pleasure as his nails dig deeper into Darcey's wrists nearly drawing blood and surely leaving a mark.

_"Fuck Darcey." _Draco growls out baring his clenched teeth. His disheveled, now wavy, blond hair clings to his sweaty forehead. His dick twitches as it pumps out every last drop of his seed. Darcey's body is tight, hot and wet against him, the sensation consumes him as a chill trickles down his spine and as quickly as it comes it fades, leaving them both panting out of breath and feeling high as a kite.

Draco releases her, falling ungracefully back upon the bed beside her, his breathing ragged as if he's ran a mile.

They both stare up at the chandelier, glistening in the reflected moonlight like expensive diamonds.

"_Blimey._" Draco mutters, barely more than an exhale of breath.

"_That was…"_ Darcey breathes, curling up beside him.

Draco extends his arm giving her access to lay her head on his chest before wrapping it lazily around her shoulder.

"_Amazing…_" She finishes, tracing lines and shapes with her fingertip on Draco's chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath he takes as he struggles to come down from the euphoric high.

After a few long moments of cuddling and catching their breath, they gently entangle themselves from one another as Draco gets up to use the loo and Darcey begins getting redressed, searching through the many articles of clothing strewn about the bedroom. After a minute of searching she locates her undergarments and slips them back on before returning to the warmth of Draco's bed and sliding beneath the heavy covers.

Draco returns from the bathroom, lacking all modesty as he struts about the bedroom stark naked and radiating confidence as he lazily kicks through the piles of clothing in search for his boxers.

Darcey silently admires him, having never seen Draco look more handsome than he does now, she can't help but grin. _'This gorgeous lad is all mine.' _She realizes, feeling rather possessive of him.

Draco pulls on his boxers before sliding into bed beside her. He offers her a soft kiss before nudging her to roll over.

"_Turn over_." He demands his voice laced with exhaustion.

_"What if I want to face this way?" _Darcey protests, already quite comfortable. She doesn't feel like moving.

'_Of course she'd choose now to be difficult_.' Draco mentally groans, recalling how submissive the haughty girl had been just a few minutes ago.

"_My bed, my rules. Turn over, Potter."_ Draco growls, as Darcey finally obeys him with an annoyed huff.

Draco drapes his arm around her waist, pulling her back flush against him as they spoon.

Darcey's glad she listened to him because this position is definitely more comfortable.

The intimate acts of tonight leave them both feeling immensely satisfied and equally tired, it's nearly four o' clock in the morning and sleep engulfs them easily, drowning them in a peaceful slumber.


	18. Chapter 18: Creatures of the Night

_AN: I've rewritten Chapter 17: 'Claimed'. I wasn't satisfied with the way it was written and felt I had written Draco slightly out of character and I wanted to fix that as well as make the sex scene between Draco and Darcey more intense. I also added a bathroom scene between them that follows directly where Chapter 16:'Twice Defied' leaves off.__ My apologies to those who read the first, rather lousy version, I was so excited to get another chapter up that I feel that I rushed it, which is unfair to you readers. So, I'm glad I've gone back and revised it to meet my anal standards. I hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far. Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favorites! With love, RachaelEwe_

* * *

Wondering about the Malfoy Manor at night is similar to Darcey's first days at Hogwarts as a clueless eleven-year-old, back when those endless corridors seemed so maze like. She found herself constantly getting lost.

It's three o' clock in the morning and being the insomniac that she is Darcey cannot sleep. Carefully tiptoeing out of Draco's bedroom, she decides to roam the mansion out of nosy curiosity.

She has her wand, she could cast '_Lumos'_ to light her path but the Ministry seems to have cracked down a lot on _everything_ including detection of underage magic so Darcey would rather not take the risk.

The portraits hiss insults at her as she passes beneath them, aware that they are in the presence of a woman with tarnished blood.

"_Rotting, stinking, dirty blood._" Seethes a particularly unpleasant portrait of a man by the name of Abraxus. "A Half-blood under my roof! I've gone straight to hell, I have!" He moans.

"Go screw your sister you nasty inbred." Darcey sneers. "I think I saw her a few paintings back."

"Your grandfather was an obnoxious swine." He counters.

"And you're an obnoxious painting. Go bury your head in some pastels will you? A bit more color would do wonders for your appearance, cover up all that ugly."

"Why you little- come back here! Face me like a true Gryffindor you lousy coward!" The portrait calls after her as she descends the staircase to the main level of the home.

Padding towards the kitchen she decides to brew herself a cup of tea in the hopes that some warm chamomile will help make her drowsy.

Darcey blindly gropes the wall for a light switch as a man's despondent moans penetrate through the darkness. Darcey's body becomes stiff with fear as her muscles contract in apprehension. She stands there frozen, palm still brushing against the wallpaper, feeling the ridges beneath her hand but failing to find a light switch. Another low groan echoes through the otherwise silent space and Darcey notices that the air is thicker down here, cold and constricting as if it's lashing out at her.

She steps forward, not out of bravery but morbid curiosity. She wants to know who or _what_ is making such a hopeless noise.

Darcey can barely see where she's going with the moon lighting her path. She wonders through the dark space of the kitchen and to a short, narrow corridor that joins the dining room and kitchen together. The hallway is lightless, lacking any windows and the air feels frigid, burning Darcey's lungs and making it nearly unbearable to breathe. She gropes the wall, discovering a solid steel door that reminds her of a freezer. She inhales a sharp, painful breath, her body trembling as she grasps the cold, metal doorknob and gives it a twist.

The heavy metal door gives a low, eerie grunt, as it swings open. A helpless moan is heard again, much closer now. Darcy has nearly found him.

Just then something glides towards her, emerging from the darkness with a burst of glacial wind and misty frost that freezes over the wall that Darcey now presses herself against.

She draws her wand; thoughts of the Ministry wiped clean from her mind as she finds herself in the face of danger. There's a hollow, wheezing breath directly in front of her and then a sucking feeling as if the creature's draining her life, extinguishing that flickering flame inside her where her emotions, morals, thoughts, and conscience live, devouring her very soul, her entire conscious being.

There's a flash of blinding white light, followed by warmth that seems expel both the creature and the chill it brings with it, pushing it backwards and trapping it once more behind the heavy, steel door.

Darcey catches a shimmer of fair hair and at first she believes her savior to be Draco but as her eyes adjust to the new light and the wispy, white peacock strutting around her, she realizes she's in the presence of the elder Malfoy, Lucius.

Darcey lowers the arm that had been shielding her eyes from the blinding light, enough to now make out the sallow, pointed face and curtain of blond hair framing it. A pair of eyes the same shade as Draco's but somehow colder and more arctic in appearance, lock with hers.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Potter." Lucius taunts, his voice no louder than a hiss.

"_Tisk, tisk, what a shame it would be to lose the mighty Darcey Potter to a mere dementor. Surely you can spawn enough magic to defeat just one? Yet, it seems I've over estimated your talent. You are nothing more than a whimpering, pathetic, little girl._"

"_I wasn't whimpering nor am I pathetic. My apologies in assuming that I wouldn't come face to face with a dementor while fetching a cup of tea from your kitchen_." Darcey replies icily, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Speaking of which, why _do_ you have a dementor in your kitchen? Do you enjoy the depressing aura of your home? Or maybe you're too cheap to install a proper air conditioning unit and use dementors to keep cool?" Darcey theorizes smoothly with a wicked grin tugging at her lips before she lowers her voice to barely more than a whisper, "_Or perhaps the dementors guard someone while also torturing them. You strike me as the type to try and kill two birds with one stone, clever man you are, Malfoy. So tell me who's your latest victim you deluded psychopath?"_

Lucius towers slightly over her, bending down to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her bruised skin_. "You're next Darcey, you'll be down there joining him as soon as the Dark Lord realizes you're useless and I'll find vast amounts of pleasure in torturing you. The young ones break so easily. Ah yes, the young ones are **loads** of fun."_

Mr. Malfoy stands tall and proud once more, glaring down at his 'guest of honor'.

"Get out of my sight." He demands firmly.

Without further word Darcey leaves, purposely walking away with an aura of calm and a dignified strut, showing him that his threats have no effect on her. Yet deep down what Lucius said had terrified her and she's eager to put as much distance between herself and the foul man as possible but she's too proud to show her weakness, her shameful fear.

* * *

The next morning Draco and Darcey use the floor network to travel to her childhood home that's stood abandoned for half a year.

Darcey had been dreading the trip home for an entire week before Draco finally convinced her to go and 'get it done with', in his words.

So here they stood in her living room ready to get it done with.

The large, colonial house is eerily still with a certain level of unpleasant thickness in the air, the remnants of dark magic.

Draco is the first to step forward, forcefully brushing the soot from his robes as he scans the festive living room, decorated in gold and crimson complete with a mistletoe and decaying, dead Christmas tree in the corner. Brown and yellow pine needles litter the floor around it and the once tasteful, modern furniture in the room has been broken, shattered, ripped or tossed aside depicting a great struggle that took place here. The home's completely ransacked.

After gazing around the depressing, filthy room Darcey steps forward past Tracey and hers abandoned school trunks and up the stairs with Draco silently at her heels. The mood between them is somber, knowing he doesn't know what he could possibly say to console her; he decides it's better to say nothing than to say something unhelpful so he keeps his mouth clamped shut.

Draco absorbs the bedroom they've entered, painted an attractive light, aqua blue with sleek white, modern furniture. The feel is minimal yet soft and feminine as the scent of lavender floods him from a vase on her desk near the door, right next to him. The desk catches his attention as he gently runs his fingertips along the stack of literature piled neatly between the vase and a see-through glass lamp with a small jar of quills. He recognizes the tomes instantly, having the same Legilimency and Occlumency books in his library at home except these ones appear newer and less ancient, their hard covers still shiny and new.

Draco's gaze shifts upwards at an ethnic, woven, Native American dream catcher hung on her wall and beneath it a triangular Slytherin pendent.

Next to those are a few black and white framed photographs of nature scenes and one of a cityscape skyline at night. His eyes move to the window adorned in airy, sheer curtains with a double sized bed perched in front of it. The blankets appear to be made of satin and give off a sheen, the color of which matches the walls, an aqua-blue swirl design with varying shades of gray. The bed is neatly made and undisturbed. On either side of it are two white, boxy end tables one with a digital alarm clock and the other with a curving, steel lamp.

On the opposite wall of the desk, near the bed, is a tall white dresser with knick-knacks on top and a small, silver jewelry box with sapphire gemstones that clashes with the modern feel of the room, looking antique and ornate.

Opposite of the bed is a double closet with sliding oak doors, a poster of the Wicked Sisters band taped crooked to it's doors along with a '_Guide to Palm Reading'_ poster depicting a hand with little black lines shooting from it and a diagram of a human head with different areas of the brain highlighted a different color, some sort of Psychology or Anatomy poster, Draco's not sure.

'_What odd taste.'_ Draco mentally muses, watching as Darcey sorts through her closet of clothes, deciding what to take and what to leave. She packs a worn, brown leather trunk with jumpers, t-shirts and jeans.

Suddenly a low creak of floorboard echoes through the empty home, sounding as if it came from somewhere upstairs, possibly the next room over.

Darcey freezes, a pair of trainers dangling in her hands. Both Draco and Darcey's eyes dart to her opened bedroom door, peering out into the empty, silent hallway.

"_Did you hear that?"_ Darcey whispers, glancing back at Draco to ensure she hasn't gone mad.

Draco silently nods, his eyes darting between Darcey and the door as fear floods over him. He draws his wand, pointing it at the threshold as if expecting a sudden ambush.

Darcey quietly abandons her closet, moving stealthily past Draco and poking her head into the corridor.

Another floorboard groans next door and Darcey whips out her wand pointing it at something or someone in the hallway that Draco can't see.

"Who's there?" Darcey demands, her voice clear and firm.

They're met with heavy silence and then another low creak, signaling that whoever's in the next bedroom is moving towards them.

With lightning speed a dark figure attacks, tackling Darcey to the floor with a loud '_thunk'_. She lets out a high scream, caught completely off guard.

She gropes for her dropped wand while struggling beneath the weight of an emaciated looking man in his late twenties with a gaunt, pale face, shaggy, unwashed hair and pitch-black, demonic eyes. A set of sharp fangs glistening with saliva, are exposed to her as the man lets out a low, primal growl.

Darcey fumbles for her wand, locating it just as a bright blue light throws the man off her, sending him over her head and crashing into the mirror and end table at the end of the corridor before tumbling halfway down the steps.

In an instant Darcey's back on her feet, standing beside Draco with their wands drawn to the staircase as they wait for the man to get up.

"_What was that?"_ Draco asks.

"A vampire, I think." Darcey replies, her body trembling with adrenaline.

"_A vampire? A vampire?" _Draco nearly squeaks_. "Merlin Darcey, what's a **vampire **doing in your home?"_ He demands in outrage, turning briefly to look at her with wide, gray eyes filled with disbelief.

"_Don't look at me!"_ Darcey defends. "_The bloody hell if I know!"_

There's a low groan of pain coming from the lower level as the Squatter struggles to get up.

"We need to get out of here." Says Draco, stating the obvious as Darcey pulls him back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

_"Help me move this! Quickly!"_ Shouts Darcey, pushing with her hip against her desk attempting to slide it in front of the door.

"_Ah, come on!"_ The man shouts, his voice coming closer, '_thump, thump, thump_' he trudges back up the stairs.

"_I ain't gonna bite ch'yer. I just got a nice whiff of your lass there, and lost my cool is all."_ He cackles darkly from just outside the bedroom door.

Draco scans over Darcey in confusion, noticing her blushing scarlet.

"What's he talking- _oh_." Draco stops mid sentence in understanding.

"It's that time?" He clarifies, fear washing over him.

Darcey nods, looking sheepish. "_It came this morning…"_ She mumbles, very quietly.

Draco looks utterly horrified between Darcey and the desk and chair piled haphazardly in front of her door, knowing this is not good, not good at all. She's bleeding six feet away from a bloodthirsty monster. Vampires are capable of being reasoned with but not when there's blood involved, that's like dangling fresh meat to a hungry wolf and expecting it not to take a bite.

With a loud bang and splintered wood, the vampire punches his fist through the door, and then again and again, peeling back the wood until there's a wide enough gap for him to crawl through. He easily knocks the flimsy furniture aside.

Both Draco and Darcey back away to opposite corners of her bedroom, with Draco near her closet and Darcey near her bed. Both their wands are drawn, ready for an impending brawl.

_"You're making a huge mistake, half-breed."_ Draco declares, thrusting up his sleeve and exposing his dark mark. "_We're high ranking Death Eaters. The Dark Lord will kill you."_ He threatens, his voice cracking slightly in fear.

"_The Dark Lord isn't here now, is he?"_ The vampire taunts dramatically looking around the room while slowly creeping towards Darcey, his eyes still trained on Draco. "_Who's going to help you? Where's your Master?"_ He mocks.

Darcey glances around frantically, her mind whirling as she analyzes the situation, thinking of a way out of this.

"_Reducto!_" Draco shouts out angrily, completely missing the vampire who dodged the spell with lightning fast reflux, as half of Darcey's bedroom is blown to smithereens. Thick dust momentarily clouds their vision as Draco coughs from somewhere in the bedroom, pressing his sleeve to his mouth.

"_Deprimo!_" Darcey points her wand at the floor below her, knowing they have no chance of hitting the vampire with a spell, he's wicked quick.

The entire floor collapses beneath them with all three of them screaming, dropping them abruptly to the first floor living room along with the debris of the demolished structure.

Feeling only semi-confident with her new apparating abilities and lacking her license, Darcey claws her way to the fireplace, stumbling like a drunkard to use the floo network.

"_Draco!"_ She calls out, ignoring the throbbing in her head, most likely a concussion and scanning the rubbish for any sign of him. She finds him groaning in pain near the fireplace, a sharp piece of splintered wood lodged deep within his leg.

The debris shifts behind them as the vampire begins to free himself, causing a wave of panic to wash over Darcey knowing they're running out of time. She wraps Draco's arm around her neck, helping him to stand as they limp a few steps over to the fireplace.

Draco clutches his wand, his gray eyes fixated on the vampire as he crawls out from the rubbish, finally giving them a glimpse of him and an opportunity to hit him with a hex.

"_Oi! Not so quick now are you, filthy half-breed!"_ Draco sneers, fury flashing through his icy, gray eyes.

"_Crucio!"_

The vampire writhes on the ground, the lower half of his body still buried beneath the pile of rubble. He let's out a piercing scream of anguish, digging his sharp, yellow nails into the floorboards so hard that it leaves a mark.

Darcey's eyes widen in shock, having never witnessed the Cruciatus Curse before. She's horrified yet equally fascinated, feeling oddly detached as if she's not really there and he's not really a person suffering. It's all in her head. It's just a nightmare.

Draco lifts the curse just enough for the sweating, panting man to catch his breathe. He peers up at them with watery, amber eyes that silently beg for mercy.

Darcey finally stirs, gaining control over her stiff limbs as she throws down the floo powder causing a burst of emerald flames to engulf them, with her free hand she grasps the brass handle of her school trunk.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Bellows Draco, sending the bright, green killing curse directly at the vampire as Darcey shouts "Malfoy Manor!" and together they disappear.

They stumble out of the much roomier fireplace of the Malfoy Manor dining room. Darcey lets go of her trunk, focusing solely on Draco who's bleeding rather badly.

"Help!" Darcey croaks out her throat raspy and dry. "Help us!" She calls out again, guiding Draco to one of the twelve chairs at the dining table.

A house elf appears with a loud '_crack', _gazing with huge, concerned eyes at its injured master.

_"Is Master Draco hurt?"_

_"Get Narcissa!" _Darcey demands, cutting off the elf that leaves with another_ 'crack'. _

Darcey rips off her filthy, dust soaked t-shirt, leaving her in a white tank top as she presses the fabric against Draco's wound, careful not to disturb the wood as she attempts to clot the blood.

"You're going to be alright, okay? Draco- _look at me._ _Draco!_" Darcey's voice grows louder and firmer, laced with desperation as her companions eyelids grow heavier and his gaze on her becomes unfocused. He sways slightly in his chair, causing Darcey to grip his shoulders in order to prevent him from toppling over.

"HELP US! SOMEBODY HELP US! NOW!" Darcey shouts out to the empty room, wondering what the hell is taking that damn elf so long.

With another 'crack' Narcissa appears, her worried, blue eyes peering down at her unresponsive son as she rushes over to him.

"Draco darling? What's wrong?" Narcissa asks frantically, screaming and jumping back a foot when her eyes land on the hunk of wood lodged in her son's thigh.

"_What have you done to him? What have you done to my boy?" _She cries out in despair, taking her panic out on Darcey.

"_I've done nothing, there was a vampire-"_

"_A vampire? _Narcissa shrieks, interrupting Darcey._ "What in Merlin's beard was a vampire doing-"_

"_What's going on here?"_ Comes the low, smooth voice of Draco's father, striding through the threshold.

"He needs to be taken to the hospital, he's losing too much blood." Darcey demands, growing frustrated as she too begins to panic.

Lucius moves to his wife and son clutching their arms preparing for Apparition.

"_Stay here, Potter."_ Lucius commands firmly, his gray eyes fixated on Darcey's.

"_Rubbish! I'm coming with you!"_ She counters, reaching out and grasping his arm with leech like strength.

The four of them apparate outside of St. Mungo's hospital, a tall, looming, cement building with white paint chipping from its many dark windows. Darcey follows the Malfoy's inside, passing under an emerald canopy with the word "_EMERGENCY WARD_" flickering in bold, florescent letters.

The double front doors vanish into smoke as they approach it, granting them access into the hospital. Inside they stand in a large, packed waiting room. Darcey fetches a nearby wheelchair and Narcissa helps lift her son into it, who at this point keeps fading in and out of consciousness, mumbling inaudible words.

Lucius checks in with the receptionist, a bored looking witch with lilac hair and more than a few facial piercings, with henna tattoos on her hands, who keeps popping her bubblegum rather obnoxiously.

Darcey takes a seat in one of the few empty chairs only to be greeting with a sling of profanities as she sits on an invisible person.

"My apologies, you should hold a book or something to warn people." Darcey snaps, instead moving to occupy the space on the floor near Draco's wheelchair as Narcissa takes up the last available seat near a wizard with painful looking, shiny red boils littering his body to the point you can barely make out his eyes, nose and mouth.

Narcissa keeps casting him disgusted glances from the corner of her eye, sitting as far away from him as possible, which is merely a couple of inches.

Darcey feels a small weight against her shoulder as she glances above her to see Draco's hand reaching out for her, his eyelids fighting to stay open. She shifts her weight so she's sitting cross-legged in front of him, taking gently his hand in hers and resting their clasped hands atop his lap, mindful of the splinter.

Narcissa reaches out to stroke his cheek, whispering that he'll be getting help soon.

After a half hour, Draco falls once more into an unconscious slumber, still gripping loosely to Darcey's warm hand.

Finally a healer approaches them, carting Draco off to a private room and telling his family to wait for him here in the waiting room and that they'll return him to them when he's mended.

While they wait Darcey explains to his parents the dangerous situation they ran into when they went to fetch her belongings.

"_He killed him?"_ Narcissa whispers, looking horrified as if she can't place a mental image of her son murdering anyone. It just doesn't make sense.

Darcey nods her head, wondering if she should add that he used the Cruciatus Curse, since his parents are Death Eaters she decides upon telling them the truth, just in case her lying would backfire and hurt Draco somehow.

Lucius seems to be reading Darcey's thoughts, knowing this won't look good for Draco if the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement gets involved in the case. Using underage magic in self-defense is one thing, even killing in true self-defense is explainable but torturing is in no way accepted and if caught Draco could face a lifelong sentence in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable.

Lucius Malfoy slips out of the hospital, most likely to get in touch with business connections that can help him cover up Draco's murder, leaving Narcissa and Darcey alone in the waiting room.

"I should be proud of him for acting so courageously, killing a vampire is a difficult and dangerous task, especially for a boy of sixteen." Narcissa whispers, with misty blue eyes. "But I can't help but feel such a heinous act will only serve to corrupt him, rob him of his innocence." Narcissa confides and it takes a lot of willpower on Darcey's part not to snort out in laughter. '_Please, Draco is **far** from innocent it's as if you hardly know him at all.'_ Darcey mentally muses as steamy recollections of their amazing sex together a few nights ago flash inside her mind causing a sudden heat to course through her.

She shifts in her seat to release some of the tension she feels at the lusty memory of him, feeling extremely awkward with having such dirty thoughts in the presence of his mother. It's insanely wrong.

"Not to come off as rude, but isn't it a bit late to be contemplating Draco's morals? I mean he has a set of Death Eaters for parents and has been branded with the dark mark at the age of sixteen, how much innocence is there left really? What had you thought he'd be getting himself into? Having tea and pasties with the Dark Lord while practicing the tickling jinx?" Darcey replies sarcastically unable to hold back her cynicism. Honestly, what a terrible mother Narcissa is to thrust such a gruesome lifestyle upon her son. It makes Darcey ill as she seethes with judgment upon the woman.

"I've done the best I can to protect him, following the Dark Lord has given us power others can only dream of acquiring. He's safe from death because we chose to give him a life of security through serving the Dark Lord. Our Master's power encompasses us, protects us from harm and who are you but a mere half-blooded orphan to pass judgment upon us, as if you're any better, turning your back on your blood. What an abomination your parents must regard you as, looking down upon you and turning in their graves. You've disgraced them and you're a disgrace to yourself." Narcissa replies in a glacial tone that leaves Darcey severely stung by her words, feeling as if she has been bitten by a venomous snake and the poison is slowly seeping through her.

"You're a foul bitch." Darcey growls, standing abruptly from her chair and going outside to get some fresh air, unable to tolerate Narcissa's presence any longer. On the way out she collides with an elderly woman entering the hospital for her shift as Darcey observes she's dressed in healers robes.

"Sorry." Darcey mutters quickly, moving to pass her but stops when a frail, wrinkled hand grasps gently to her shoulder.

Darcey glances at the nametag pinned above her breast, '_Lottie',_ before peering into her saggy, aged but still feminine face. The elderly woman looks immensely kind in nature, her blue eyes twinkling with joy and warmth.

"_Pardon dear but you look awfully familiar, I can't help but feel I've met you before somewhere. Tell me, what is your name?"_ The healer, Lottie inquires in a sweet, quiet voice.

"_Darcey, Darcey erm- Potter ma'am."_ Darcey stutters slightly, still not quite used to using her legal name, still finding herself wanting to say 'Davis' out of pure instinct.

The healer's eyes widen a fraction in surprise. _'Yeah, yeah I'm related to the famous Harry Potter and no I won't be answering any questions regarding him so sod off_.' Darcey mentally groans, knowing the barrage of questions to come but is pleasantly surprised by the unpredicted response she receives instead.

_"Darcey Potter! I knew I recognized you, you look just like your father you do! Oh Merlin, I tended to you years ago, in this very hospital. Right up there-"_ Lottie points to one of the seven floors of St. Mungo's.

_"-In the Neonatal Intensive Care ward. You were such a sweet baby, tiny, but beautiful and those blue eyes._" Lottie gasps, clutching her hand to her chest and letting out a content sigh as if revisiting an old, cherished memory. "_The prettiest blue I'd ever seen. You were a bit colicky, but of course that's to be expected, as your mother was unable to nurse you. She was busy with your brother and recovering from a c-section, of course… Such a beautiful, kindhearted woman your mother was. She had that sort of raw beauty on the inside that seemed to radiate ten fold on the outside. Your father was a cheeky bloke, had a way of bringing a smile out of just about anyone. He was a funny one, that one."_

Darcey feels a warmness spread through her, swelling with excitement and pride at Lottie's kind words regarding her birth parents.

"I wish I could remember them, they sound like wonderful people." Darcey replies softly, casting the elderly witch a genuine smile laced with sincerity that not many others have gotten to see.

"_Oh but they were, dear. They were…"_ Lottie replies warmly, sharing in her smile.

"It was a pleasure running into you Darcey. Stay well and take care of yourself."

"Will do ma'am."

"_And never forget your roots. Good seeds bear good fruit, remember that." _Lottie says wisely, as if sensing an inner turmoil within Darcey and attempting to soothe her. It's as if she's really saying '_you're not a monster, dear. Remember that.'_

_"I'll try." _Darcey admits honestly, she'd be lying if she said anything else because despite what this woman or anyone else may say, deep down Darcey can't ignore the beast that lives within her, feeding off her darkness and slowly consuming her. Her bodies a vessel that she shares with a monster and rather than fight to overcome her demons Darcey has decided to use them to meet her own ends.

_'It takes a beast to slay a beast.'_

She's fighting against evil, vowing to destroy Voldemort but for her own selfish cause, to quench her own thirst for vengeance rather than to fight to rid the world of an evil dictator and in most ways that makes Darcey herself a monster as well…

_'You're wrong Lottie, some seeds bear rotten fruit. It's all in how they grow, the environment around them that determines whether or not they flourish and I'm bruised fruit.'_


	19. Chapter 19: Surrender to Dark Lust

I guess you could say Darcey's always had a '_thing_' against St. Mungo's hospital ever since Tracey and Roger came down with the Vanishing Disease as kids, a contagious illness which causes parts of the infected persons body to disappear at random. It took nearly a week to treat and while Roger found his unfortunate situation amusing, Tracey had whined and moaned for days, terrified that the effects would cause permanent damage although Darcey had assured her otherwise. She had hated the hospital since then and she still hated it now.

St. Mungo's was an old, cement building last reconstructed in the early 1940's with grimy tiled floors and cold, bare walls. Many melancholy souls of past patients departed roam its cold corridors thanks to the Janus Thickey ward, an insane asylum that's kept locked from the outside, imprisoning its patients within. Only in death are they finally freed and often the lost, despondent, and tortured souls remain trapped in a sort of limbo, hopelessly roaming the empty halls lacking direction and purpose.

A group of healers rush past Darcey in a blur of lime green robes pushing a man on a stretcher howling in misery. Darcey moves aside to avoid being trampled upon before continuing her journey to Draco's private room, 313 on the second floor marked '_Creature Induced Injuries'._

"Happy Birthday!" Darcey happily announces, struggling to squeeze through the door while carrying four bags and a handful of bright neon balloons. Draco pulls his gaze away from idly staring out the window, while his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"What's all this rubbish?" He asks, grinning in amusement as Darcey sets the bags down next to him and begins tying the balloons to the end of his cot.

"_Rubbish?"_ Darcey demands as if he's gone mad. "I'm trying to cheer you up you foul git! I've carried this so-called _rubbish _all the way down from the fifth floor gift shop, you could at least show some appreciation for my strenuous effort." She huffs.

"_Thanks, love." _Draco replies smoothly, his voice taking on a charming tone_._ "Just what I wanted some obnoxious balloons. You know me better than anyone, dear." He taunts, still grinning in amusement at how disheveled Darcey appears.

Darcey finishes up tying the third and last balloon, an electric blue one, before moving to kneel before the bags, rustling through them loudly and placing their contents one by one upon Draco's lap.

"Chocolate frogs, of course, although they're not nearly as good as the ones at Honeydukes..."

_"_Stealing my sweets are you?" Draco demands.

"I got hungry. Consider it compensation for my labor." Darcey replies snidely.

"_Ah_, here we are, fire whiskey. You know, to take the edge off." Says Darcey while placing a square, glass bottle on Draco's lap filled with rich, amber liquid.

"I got you a cake." She adds, placing a round chocolate cake with green butter cream icing beside him. Draco leans forward to get a closer look at it, eager to have a piece. He's starving with the disgusting food the staff has been offering him. He'd rather eat dung.

"They spelled my name wrong." Draco observes.

"_What?"_ Darcey squeaks, looking up from one of the bags. "Let me see that." She demands, stealing back the cake.

"Who in Merlin's beard would spell '_Draco_' with a k?" Darcey cries out in outrage, peering down at the frosted light blue letters that read '_Happy Birthday Drako'_

"_Dumbasses, the lot of them."_ Darcey sneers, handing him back the ruined cake.

Draco cuts himself a slice using the plastic silverware Darcey brought with her. He takes a large bite, deciding that regardless of the spelling error the cake is delicious.

"Last but not least, I got you a present… Just something small." Darcey flushes in embarrassment.

Draco unwraps the palm-sized, rectangular black box, pulling out a long silver chain with a green glass phial on the end, a necklace of some sorts.

"_It has garlic in it."_ Darcey explains, noticing his confused look. "_You know, to ward off vampires."_ She grins.

"_Oh_, I was wondering- Does it work?" Draco asks, bringing the necklace up to eye level in order to examine it.

"_It should_. A shady looking bloke was selling them in the waiting room amongst other things, I know it's a little late to be- well" Darcey stutters, feeling awkward. "-Considering you already had a run in with one, but at least now- if you carry that with you-"

"I love it." Draco interrupts, stowing away the garlic necklace.

Darcey smiles warmly in return, still looking sheepish. "_Sorry I couldn't get you more…" _

"No need to be sorry. I told you I love it." Draco replies matter of fact, setting aside his sweets, alcohol and gift so that Darcey can come lay beside him.

"How's your leg?" Darcey inquires while cautiously curling up next to him, mindful of his wound.

"Better. The mediwizard said I'll be released by tomorrow morning."

"Well, that's good." Darcey replies, feeling relieved. "Will it scar?"

"They didn't say. I forgot to ask." Draco shrugs, looking indifferent.

"I like a man with scars." Darcey smirks, tilting her chin up to face him.

"_Well then, I'm a lucky man."_ Draco whispers arrogantly, carefully shifting himself so that he's now lying on his side, face-to-face with the pretty girl next to him. He cups the nape of her neck, pulling her into him. Their lips touch and a jolt of electricity courses through him. It's as if their magic is magnetic, drawing them together and crackling with pleasure around them. The attraction between them is powerful.

* * *

The next morning Draco is released from St. Mungo's and they return to the manor.

Darcey is in dire need of a hot bath, having spent two days straight in the hospital while Narcissa returned home to eat and sleep. There was no way Darcey would willingly choose to be alone with his mother, especially after their row, if things were bad before they were terrible now.

Narcissa fluffs Draco's pillows before easing him into bed.

"I'm not a cripple mother-"

"I know you're not but I'm your mummy, let me fuss over you a little, it gives me something to do." Narcissa coos.

"Yeah Draco, let _mummy_ help you." Darcey teases while stifling a laugh into the fabric of her sleeve, earning a death glare from the two of them.

"Go bathe, you smell like dung." Draco counters, smirking at the offended look on Darcey's face.

"I do not!" She whines childishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do to, _now go_." Draco demands, pointing at the door.

Darcey dips her head in a mock sulking gesture while trudging into the bathroom, slamming it with a little more force than necessary behind her.

* * *

Draco and Darcey sit in the drawing room for the second time, the first being the night she killed Albus Dumbledore.

The room is a crossbreed of a library, office, and living room, with a large, hand carved, polished, oak desk with serpentine legs and a collection of shiny, leather armchairs near the empty, stone fireplace. Beautiful, oil paintings like the ones at Hogwarts adorn the papered walls, moving and going about their own business as if oblivious to the family's presence. Nearby bookshelves house impressive, worn tomes, a hand of glory, and a necromancy orb used to channel energy from the living to the deceased.

Draco and Darcey perch themselves together on the loveseat against the wall, peering up at the familiar Ministry official who's in charge of Apparition Lessons.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy." The man nods in acknowledgment. "Miss Davis-"

"Potter." Darcey corrects.

"Come again?" The half transparent man squeaks.

"You meant to say _Miss. Potter. _You see there's been a misunderstanding regarding my name. My legal name is Darcey _Potter_. It was never legally Davis. Funny I'd expect the _Ministry_ to know that considering they're the ones who looked into it." Darcey frowns in contempt.

"My sincere apologies _Miss Potter_. No matter, let me just correct that…" The instructor replies, drawing out his wand and pointing it at the parchment, erasing the name and scribbling over it with the magnificent yet obnoxiously large quill he's borrowed from the Malfoy's.

"My name is Wilkie Twycross and I will be conducting your Apparition Exams this morning. Lucius has informed the Ministry of certain- _erm-" _The instructor clears his throat looking extremely ill at ease._ "-Events_ that have taken place that has caused you to miss your exams in May. So here we are, if you will both rise." Twycross gestures for them to stand, to which they do with Draco wincing in the process, his leg still sore.

"_Remember the three D's: Destination, Determination and Deliberation and you'll do fine."_ Twycross smiles in reassurance. "Mr. Malfoy, if you will, you may go first." He says.

Draco limps very slowly over to stand before him. Darcey frowns, feeling worried for his health. "Are you sure you're feeling up to this?" She inquires for the hundredth time that morning.

"_Yes, Darcey._" Draco growls stubbornly, his eyes fixated on the nearly invisible man before him while awaiting further instruction.

Twycross flicks his wand producing a wooden hoop that he places on the ground a few feet away from his student. "If you will, please apparate into the center of this hoop. Take your time. You may begin when you're ready. No rush." Twycross smiles warmly, pity reflecting in his eyes as he takes in the injured boy.

Draco ignores him, staring intensely at the circle for a few moments before suddenly turning on his heel in a blur of dark, swirling colors. He vanishes, reappearing in the blink of an eye and standing stiffly in the middle of the hoop. He successfully apparated, he passed the exam.

"Well done Mr. Malfoy!" Twycross beams, clapping his thin hands together and looking thoroughly impressed. Darcey feels rather impressed as well, having expected Draco's injured leg to give him some trouble but it seems he's still managed to apparate effortlessly, she only hopes now that she can do the same.

It's Darcey's turn now and she rises from her seat. She stands where Draco had just been, clearing her mind and focusing solely on her destination. Staring at the space inside the hoop, she wills with all her might to occupy that space. Then she twists abruptly but instead of apparating she trips over her own two feet, stumbling a few steps violently to her left and steadying herself at last second by clutching the arm of the couch.

"No worries Miss Potter, that's to be expected. You're a little rusty. Go again, you get three tries." Twycross kindly reassures.

Darcey nods stiffly, not meeting either the instructor or Draco's gaze, not wanting to lose her concentration. She resumes her previous spot and refocuses her mind on occupying the center of the hoop. Once more she twists her body feeling more determined than ever and this time she vanishes. For a split second everything's black as she ascends into nothingness, there's an immense pressure pressing into every inch of her body and she feels as if she's about to crumple into a ball of flesh and bones. She panics and just as she's about to scream, the pressure having become unbearable, it suddenly lifts from her as she crashes back down to earth.

She stumbles slightly but regains her balance, gazing down she notices that she's now teetering inside the hoop. She successfully apparated.

"Well done Miss Potter!" Squeaks the Instructor.

Fifteen minutes later they are all gathered around the desk with Draco's parents as Twycross documents their names and date of testing on the two slips of parchment before stamping each page with a seal of red approval and handing to them their licenses.

He congratulates them once more before Narcissa escorts him to the door, leaving the teens alone with Lucius to celebrate.

Lucius tells his son how he succeeded on his first try as well, back when he was a boy and the two move into the dining room to pop a bottle of champagne. Darcey takes one of the slender glasses filled with clear, bubbly liquid and tips the alcoholic drink into her mouth, despite it only being a little past noon. She could really use a drink after the week she's had.

Narcissa returns to them and they take their drinks back into the drawing room where Lucius begins his discussion with them regarding the consequences of Draco torturing and killing a vampire.

"_You told them?"_ Draco growls, turning his frustration upon Darcey as soon as Lucius brings up the topic.

Darcey frowns, not liking how quickly he's turned on her, it reminds her of a viper.

"_What choice did I have?"_ Darcey asks. "_The Aurors would have found his body eventually and then what? What would we have said then, Draco?"_ Darcey snaps, putting up her defenses.

"_She's right."_ Lucius grudgingly admits, staring sternly into the eyes of his son. _"You're lucky she possessed enough sense to tell me or else I wouldn't have been able to clean up your mess."_ He scolds.

"_So I'm not going to Azkaban?"_ Draco gulps, looking thoroughly relieved.

"No. Fortunately the Dark Lord has acquired control over the Ministry through a well-known and powerful politician, therefore allowing leniency to his followers. We are on the verge of becoming unstoppable. Soon the law will no longer apply to us, but for now it's still important that we exercise caution. The last thing we need is to draw more attention to ourselves, at least not until the Ministry takeover is complete." Lucius stresses.

"_Who is it?"_ Darcey speaks up, gaining their attention. "_Who's the politician?" _

_"I don't believe that's any of your business, Potter."_ Lucius sneers, turning hostile once more.

"I beg to differ." Darcey replies calmly, struggling to hold back her anger. "I'm a member of the Dark Lords army, I deserve to know-"

"You are _not_ a member, careful not to let your overconfidence blind you. You bear no mark, you are not one of _us_." Lucius retorts in glacial tones.

"I will be." Says Darcey arrogantly. _'And when I help defeat the Dark Lord we'll see who's still sneering. You'll be groveling at my feet, begging me not to let the Aurors take you back to Azkaban.' _Darcey mentally muses darkly.

"And until then you are just some foolish girl who's being used by the Dark Lord and is too thick to see it." Lucius seethes.

"_Rubbish!_" Darcey blurts out angrily. "_I know exactly what my position in this war is. I know exactly what I've gotten myself into."_

"_Have you?"_ Lucius counters smoothly, clearly mocking her while setting down his glass of champagne and lounging back in his chair, his gray eyes glistening cruelly.

"_You've seen nothing yet, Potter, I assure you. Have you ever been under the influence of the Imperius curse? Or the Cruciatus curse? Tortured senseless? If not then you have no idea what evil awaits you."_ Lucius hisses.

"_Yes._" Darcey snaps firmly. _"I've been cast under one of the Unforgivables thanks to your son."_

Lucius' eyes gleam in curiosity as he turns to face Draco, his look questioning.

"I used the Imperius curse on Darcey once at school." Draco explains quietly looking a bit guilty. His father on the other hand looks immensely proud.

"_If you can't resist a weak Imperius curse cast by a seventeen year old boy-"_ Lucius begins to taunt.

"I didn't _want _to resist him." Darcey cuts through him. "_I fancied Draco even back then, I just didn't know it. I let him do it to me because I liked it. It felt good."_ Darcey admits coldly.

Draco turns to look upon Darcey in astonishment, having not known she thought of him as anything more than an enemy back then. Had they always secretly lusted for each other? Had there always been an intense, undeniable attraction between them but they were too stupid to see it? Something within Darcey's confession strokes a dark part of him and he finds himself suddenly aroused by her words. '"_I liked it."_' He mentally repeats Darcey's words, echoing over and over in his head. '_She liked submitting to me in the most vulnerable way possible, she even enjoyed it.' _Draco can't believe it.

The room falls silent as her words hang over the air and then his Aunt Bellatrix saunters in, an amused smirk tugging at her lips.

_"You liked it?"_ She repeats with a dark cackle, her tone mocking. "_Lucky you nephew, you've got yourself an obedient little pet here. Maybe next you can teach her to do a few tricks. Although from what I heard the other night, you've already got the bitch trained."_

_"Shut your mouth, you filthy old wench!" _Darcey shouts, abruptly rising from her chair and flinging her champagne glass directly at Bellatrix. It soars over her left shoulder barely missing her face.

_"How dare you assault me you little half blood whore! I'm a pureblood, I'm your superior!" _Bellatrix wails, a deranged glint to her cruel, lightless eyes.

Both women had drawn their wands in an instant and if Darcey was going to follow through with hexing one of the most intimidating Death Eaters in existence Draco would never know because she wasn't given the chance. Darcey was unfairly outnumbered three to one as Lucius swiftly disarmed her, catching her holly wand as it arched through the air and then Bellatrix attacked the wandless girl in the cruelest way possible while Draco cried out, "_No!_"

"_Crucio!"_

Darcey crumpled to the floor, her knees giving way beneath her. A feral scream ripped through the air as she thrashed upon the ground, fists clenched, teeth grinding together in agony. Hot tears rolling down her cheeks against her will. She had no control over her body including its reaction to the pain. It was the most unbearable pain Darcey had ever experienced, something she could never have fathomed how it felt unless she experienced it for herself.

It was a searing, overwhelming pain that made her want to crawl out of her skin. Her reaction to it was pure instinct, as if she'd touched a hot cookie sheet fresh out of the oven and drawn back her throbbing, red hand, except she couldn't pull away from it, she couldn't escape it. She screamed so hard and loud that it burned her throat and sounded foreign to her ears, as if the cries didn't belong to her. She hadn't even known she was capable of producing such a disturbing, feral noise. She was sobbing, tears trailing down her blotchy cheeks in an instant and just like the screams she had no control over the tears, it was the way her body reacted to the pain. Just when she was beginning to go mad, literally wishing death upon herself, anything to stop the torture, the curse was lifted for a moment giving her an opportunity to regain her breath.

She was curled up in the fetal position, nails digging into the carpet beneath her. Cold sweat coated her entire body, sticking her clothes uncomfortably to her. Her hair covered her face, shielding her from the people looming above her. She couldn't even muster the strength to move, terrified that so much as a flinch on her part would bring back the agony.

_"Draco."_ Darcey whimpered so quietly she wasn't even certain if she had said it out loud, maybe she'd only thought it.

Draco made a sudden movement towards her, breaking free from the terror and shock gripping him but his Aunt's cruel voice cut through him once more stopping him dead in his tracks.

_"Imperio." _

On quivering legs Darcey slowly rose to all fours, still panting before pulling herself up to stand completely. Her body trembled violently, her nerves still shocked by the unbearable pain that had moments ago coursed through her body.

"You're a whore aren't you, Darcey?" Bellatrix purred, stepping closer to the teenager and brushing the tangled, sweat soaked hair out from the girl's eyes. "Say you're a whore." She commands.

_"I'm a whore."_ Darcey answers robotically, causing everyone in the room to emit a low chuckle except for Draco who remained horrified, frozen stiff.

"Show us that you're nothing but a dirty whore, Darcey." Bellatrix hissed, her voice as cold as her hair black. Darcey obediently stepped towards her; cupping her cheek tenderly while her other hand groped the outside of the elder witches dress, squeezing her right breast. Darcey brought her lips to Bellatrix's neck, pushing back the mane of dark curls and kissing and nipping at the exposed, milky flesh.

Bellatrix smiled wickedly, roughly shoving the girl away with a heartless laugh. _"You silly girl, I didn't mean come onto me. I'm not a dyke." _

Darcey stumbled back sluggishly, as if intoxicated before twirling around to face the closest being near her, Lucius Malfoy.

She sauntered over to him, pushing him gently back on the couch where he obediently sat down allowing her to guide him, his icy gray eyes glistening with amusement. He found the entire situation hilarious, knowing the girl was too weak to resist the Imperius curse. This would surely prove it. How far would she go?

Darcey fought with all her might to resist the effects of the curse and finally felt the warm, pleasant, tingling sensation abandon her as she regained control over her actions, no longer a pathetic puppet.

Straddling the hips of Lucius she slyly ran her hand along his leg, beginning at his knee and ending an inch away from his member, which gave a small twitch sensing the warmth radiating from her hand so near him. He couldn't help the way his body reacted to the forbidden encounter, stiffening against his will and betraying him. Just when he thought she was going to grope him and just as his wife had stepped towards them, giving a silent look of warning that she was going to intervene, Darcey made a detour and slipped her wand from the pocket of his trousers pressing it to his neck and casting a nonverbal 'stupefy' that knocked him out cold.

Darcey rolled to the side just as Narcissa's hex was about to hit her, crashing into the couch cushion instead. Darcey disarmed the witch, her wand falling with a clatter before Draco's feet but the boy made no move to fetch it.

His fists were balled at his sides, his gray eyes wide with fear and glinting with jealousy and rage. He looked ghostly pale and utterly revolted by what he'd nearly just witnessed Darcey doing to his father. _Nearly_, thank God, though her interaction with his Aunt had left an awful taste in his mouth as bile has risen to his throat.

"Enough!" Narcissa bellowed, holding up her hands in surrender as Darcey and Bellatrix pointed their wands at each other, both their chests heaving with outrage.

"Darcey and Draco, go upstairs. Bellatrix, leave her alone. She's learned her lesson and I won't allow you to curse her again. She belongs to the Dark Lord not us." Narcissa reasons, her cold eyes showing no sympathy for the girl. It was clear she felt Darcey had been out of line and deserved to be punished by her deranged sister.

"_But Cissy, the fun has just begun."_ Bellatrix whined. "_Couldn't I just torture her once more? She did assault your husband after all. She obviously hasn't learned her lesson in respecting her superiors."_ Bellatrix spat, her eyes narrowing upon the insolent brat.

_"No."_ Narcissa replied as sternly as ever. "_Now both of you lower your wands and act like respectable ladies." _

Only when Draco finally moved to step between them did Bellatrix reluctantly lower her wand, sulking slightly while pouting out her lower lip. Darcey held her death grip on her wand, her knuckles turning white and her hand trembling as she glared at the witch before her with raw hatred wanting nothing more than to kill her on the spot.

'_I killed Albus Dumbledore. I can take her, she's nothing compared to him.' _The dark voice in Darcey's mind continued to egg her on.

"Darcey let's go. It's over." Draco hissed, cautiously gliding his long, pale fingers over her own and lowering her hand. He gently guided her back to his bedroom where they retired for the rest of the evening.

Draco ran the bath, allowing the tub to fill with hot, bubbly water while he helped a silent and stiff Darcey undress. She didn't resist him, staring back at him with black eyes and an unreadable expression. He wonder what she was thinking, already sensing what she was feeling. '_She's angry. Of course she's angry. She's just been tortured and she's shocked. Yeah, she's still in shock. She'll come around. She'll come out of it."_ Draco mentally persuades himself, though a small part of him doubted his words, but he didn't want to think about that now. He didn't want to even entertain the notion that perhaps what Darcey had just been through had thoroughly damaged her, what if it had driven her mad? _No, he couldn't think like that. She was strong; she'd pull through. _

Draco unclasped her bra with delicacy; afraid of hurting her further and then slipped her lacey underwear down over her hips.

He guided her down into the tub where she brought her knees to her chest and hugged herself, resting her chin on top of her knees and shivering despite the hot water engulfing her. She stared ahead of her at the dripping golden faucets, staring off into space, still consumed with her dark, turbulent thoughts.

Draco sat beside her, leaning back against the tub and letting himself sigh as he closed his eyes, trying to will his own body to relax a bit more.

"Talk to me, please." Draco's low voice penetrated the silent, hollow bathroom, echoing off the walls and causing Darcey to jerk at the sudden sound.

Her dark, blue eyes fell upon him, though she still stared at him rather blankly.

"_What do you want me to say?"_ Darcey hissed quietly, her voice icy cold. Draco shivered involuntarily at its intensity.

"_Anything._" He managed softly, shifting to face her.

"I'm tired." Darcy finally deadpanned, sighing as she let go of herself and stretched out her legs, leaning back into the tub and resting her neck on the ledge. Her eyes fluttered shut as she willed her stiff, trembling body to finally relax and unwind.

"_You can't fall asleep in the tub." _Says Draco when he notices her nodding off._ "Come on, let's go."_ Draco adds while gently nudging her to stand. He offers her an outstretched towel as she climbs back out. He wraps it around her while using another towel to pat dry her dripping wet hair that falls in tangled dark curls between her shoulder blades.

Draco slips beneath the cool covers, noticing Darcey lingering at the edge of his bed staring at him.

Before he can ask what she's doing she drops her towel, standing stark naked and beautiful before him, her dark, piercing eyes locked on his, glistening with intensity.

Draco uncovers himself, sitting back up as Darcey steps towards him. When she's close enough for him to reach her, he grabs her wrist and swiftly pulls her into bed with him.

Their lips lock in a passionate kiss, filled with desperation as Darcey silently begs him to offer her some form of release from the pain, both physical and emotional, she needs a distraction from the darkness or else she might go mad with hatred.

Darcey moves her lips below him, hovering over his waistline as she fumbled to slide down his silk pajamas. His dick stiffens and grows as her pale, slender fingers wrap around it stroking it to life.

Mindful not to disturb his wound, Darcey positions herself so that she's on all fours below him, one hand working to stroke him while the other holds her weight.

Draco groans in pleasure, reaching down to tangle his fingers in her damp hair as she presses her soft lips to the tip of him. He lets out a sigh of pleasure as her hot tongue moves to taste him as Darcey's mouth takes in his entire length until he's pressed against the back of her throat. She slowly guides her head up and down while moving her tongue against him as if she were snogging him.

"_Darcey._" Draco hisses between clenched teeth, tightening his grip on her hair, grabbing a fist full of it and pulling her closer to him. She chokes slightly as he hits her gag reflux but easily recovers as she continues to bob up and down below him, sucking him off.

Draco doesn't have to guide her, as she seems to know the perfect pace. She moves her hot mouth against him with passion.

Draco faintly wonders if this is her first time sucking someone off, thoroughly impressed with her emerging new skill while feeling a pang of fierce jealousy trickling through him.

"_Is this your first time doing this?"_ Draco can't help himself from asking, as the jealousy threatens to ruin the pleasure. He needs to know that she belongs to him entirely and hasn't pleasured anyone other guys this way.

She pulls away from him momentarily, her lips slick with saliva. He decides she's never looked more alluring. He'd give anything to shag her, although his injury prevents him from doing so.

Her blue eyes widen a fraction at his inquiry as a scarlet blush crosses face. She now exudes innocence. "_Erm_- yes. Why is it_ that _bad?" She asks with a frown, feeling suddenly self-conscious and mortified.

"_No!"_ Draco hastily reassures her. "_No, I just wanted to be sure I was your first. You're doing amazing, love._" He breathes, his dick jerking in eagerness, missing the heat of her lips.

Her eyes darken as lust reflects in them once more, and fueled with renewed confidence and courage she engulfs him, sucking him even more sensually and carefully than before as if teasing him as punishment for his interruption.

"_Darcey."_ Draco groans, thrusting his hips against her, unable to tolerate the teasing any longer. He needs to release himself, he feels the pressure building and it's nearly intolerable.

Darcey quickens her pace at his request, her head bobbing up and down as his hands lace in her damp hair once more, guiding her towards him.

"_Yeah. Just like that_." He pants, his tone husky as his gray eyes flutter shut and his lips part as his head lulls back against the pillow. He lets go of her hair allowing his hand to fall limply beside him as he surrenders himself to her. Darcey sucks him off at the perfect rhythm and soon… "_Fuck Darcey_." He moans, his hips thrashing against her.

"_Mmm."_ She moans against him, her voice muffled suddenly feeling extremely turned on by the dominance she has over Draco, knowing that she's capable of causing him this much pleasure just by using her mouth. It's enlightening, a sort of raw power that she's never felt before.

His hips jerk wildly against her, his dick twitching against her lips as his salty seed fills her mouth. She slows her pace, pulling every last drop from him before carefully removing her mouth and forcing herself to swallow his seed.

She wipes her mouth clean with the back of her hand, before moving to lie beside him watching with swelling pride as he slowly comes down from the high, his breathe panting and face flushed a dull pink. '_I had this effect on him. I did this.' _She realizes in awe, feeling her own sense of euphoria merely through the sheer power she feels coursing through her. She feels on top of the world as if she's a goddess.


End file.
